"Your father—he has arrived, and I must bid you farewell," said Munro, kissing her trembling hands with sudden emotion.
"Stay, monsieur," said Therese, in an imploring voice. So "monsieur" stayed; to go was impossible.
"M. le Baron!" exclaimed Nanon, rushing towards them, while her round black eyes dilated with excitement; "M. le Baron, and oh, mon Dieu, M. le Comte d'Arcot is with him!"
"M. d'Arcot!" murmured poor Therese, and stood rooted to the spot, the statue of terror and grief; for, after six days such as the last, to meet an old and previously unknown fiancé with the cordiality requisite, was more than poor human nature could bear or achieve.
The baron, who was considerably changed in person since we last had the pleasure of seeing him, having become stout and paunchy, abrupt a
