André, the oldest, was a clever, plodding lad of some sixteen years, steady, and very considerate of his parents as well as of his sister Gabrielle, to whom he was fondly attached. Despite his Scotch origin, his appearance was thoroughly French, though his mother laughingly told him in character he was altogether a canny Scotchman, quiet and firm. The younger boys—Jules, Philippe, and James—were bright, healthy children, quick and affectionate, giving their mother and Gabrielle no end of work in patching clothes and darning stockings for them.
Such is a slight sketch of the family into whose small dwelling the summer sunbeams peeped on the morning we are writing of.
Mother and daughter had remained silent for a short time, when the door opened, and a tall, fair-haired gentleman entered with a bright expression on his clever, sensible face.
The invalid looked up with a happy smile.
"Ah, Jacques," she said, "how soon you have returned! That is pleasant."
But Gabrielle, with the keen eye of youth, had seen something in her father's face that she read quickly, and springing up with the baby still in her arms, said—
"O papa, thou hast heard good news, I am sure. Has the appointment we have hoped for so long come at last? Oh! I see it has by the look in your eyes. Tell us what it is, dear papa; tell us quickly, please."
Ere answering, Mr. M'Ivor seated himself by the couch, and taking his wife's hand, he said quietly—
"The Lord is good, Marie. We have reason to thank him. I have just received a letter from an old and revered friend of mine, Professor Warner of Hereford, offering me the situation of drawing-master in a large collegiate school there, with the option of giving private lessons to any other pupils. There is, he writes, a good house and garden provided, and the yearly salary is good also. What do you say? Shall we accept it? Come here also, my little Gabrielle, and tell us what you think about the matter."
"O papa, is it not too charming?" said the impetuous girl, putting the baby on her father's knee, and stooping as she spoke over her mother's couch. "Only to think of it! A house and garden, and money enough to keep that horrid wolf, that even I was beginning to fear, from our door. And now we shall be able to get nourishing food and fresh air for the pauvre maman, and she will get well again; and André, our dear, good André, will get some good opening as a teacher also, I daresay. Oh! We have reason to thank God, who has been so mindful of us. Mamma, speak; say, is it not delightful?"