"No; I think M. and Mme. Courant are bourgeois. But evidently they have been very good to Mademoiselle de St. Roques, whose parents really did belong to the old noblesse. Probably they may keep a servant to wait upon us, and we must not mind if things are rather rough."
"I shall like to see her again. But I would rather go home to Molly—much rather!" murmured Roy, his face falling. "Except for staying with you and the others."
One day later, passports being still withheld, Roy started, in company with his parents and Denham, on the cold and dismal journey to Verdun. The Colonel secured a large roomy old coach or chariot, which had once belonged to some well-to-do person,—probably a nobleman, since decapitated. With relays of horses, even though the horses in question were somewhat sorry beasts, they made fairly quick advance.
(To be continued.)
[OUR LILY GARDEN.]
PRACTICAL AIDS TO THE CULTURE OF LILIES.
By CHARLES PETERS.
The life history of the lily is one of perpetual growth. The lily never lies dormant.[1] In the severest frost, or in periods of great drought, this plant is ever developing. As soon as the flower-stem has died down, the bulb begins to form fresh roots and continues to do so until the time comes round again for it to send up its flower spikes. Lilium Candidum throws up a winter crop of leaves during the autumn, but the other lilies perform all their winter labours below ground.