Nadine was touched to tears when she saw how the good lady had altered and aged in the short space of time since she parted from her. Her abundant hair was almost snow-white, her beautiful features were deeply lined, and her step had lost all its spring. She moved and spoke softly.
But there was no mistaking her pleasure at the return of the children. Both from the magistrate at Beaulieu, and Father Blandinière she had had letters in regard to them. She knew much of their sufferings, and she was eager to console them for their trials, and to forget her own sorrows in the endeavor to make them happy.
"My dear children," she said after she had embraced them in turn, "it is because I myself have suffered that I want you, who are still so young, to forget your many tribulations. I once had children of my own. The good God gave them to me. But He took them from me again, and now I want to fill the empty place that they have left. I shall take entire care of you, and shall be responsible for your future. You shall share all that I possess, and be denied nothing that will be for your good. The search for your sister Lydia shall be continued until she is found and restored to you. And now, my dear children, are you content to accept my proposal?"
Content to accept her offer—the advantages and attractions of which were so great that they could scarcely credit their understanding of it—? Indeed they were content—and more—they were filled with rapture and gratitude. It meant their admission into a veritable Paradise. No more hunger—no more cold—no more anxiety about food or clothing—no more rough or rascally people to deal with—oh, how good it was of God to give them such a friend!
CHAPTER XXII.
REUNITED AT LAST.
The days that followed were very happy ones for the Tamby children, and dear kind Madame Pradère found wonderful soothing of her own sorrows in the frank delight they showed at the ease and luxury they now enjoyed.
The Pradère chateau was surrounded by ample grounds in which Nalla was provided with a roomy substantial stable for himself, and through which Cæsar loved to roam accompanied by Vigilant, who evidently quite appreciated being relieved of all rehearsals and public performances.
The old van, that had so long been the only home the children possessed, was put in a corner of the carriage-yard where Abel, who soon found plenty of playmates, had great fun with it, using it now as a house, and again as a fort, and so on after the manner of youngsters with a lively imagination.