CHAPTER XXVII. CHEERFUL YESTERDAYS AND CONFIDENT TO-MORROWS.
The ladies retired to their several rooms, and after a general rearranging of toilets descended to the great parlor, where they were joined by Messire La Lande, the curé of the parish, a benevolent, rosy old priest, and several ladies from the neighborhood, with two or three old gentlemen of a military air and manner, retired officers of the army who enjoyed their pensions and kept up their respectability at a cheaper rate in the country than they could do in the city.
Felix Beaudoin had for the last two hours kept the cooks in hot water. He was now superintending the laying of the table, resolved that, notwithstanding his long absence from home, the dinner should be a marvellous success.
Amélie was very beautiful to-day. Her face was aglow with pure air and exercise, and she felt happy in the apparent contentment of her brother, whom she met with Pierre on the broad terrace of the Manor House.
She was dressed with exquisite neatness, yet plainly. An antique cross of gold formed her only adornment except her own charms. That cross she had put on in honor of Pierre Philibert. He recognized it with delight as a birthday gift to Amélie which he had himself given her during their days of juvenile companionship, on one of his holiday visits to Tilly.
She was conscious of his recognition of it,—it brought a flush to her cheek. “It is in honor of your visit, Pierre,” said she, frankly, “that I wear your gift. Old friendship lasts well with me, does it not? But you will find more old friends than me at Tilly who have not forgotten you.”
“I am already richer than Croesus, if friendship count as riches, Amélie. The hare had many friends, but none at last; I am more fortunate in possessing one friend worth a million.”
“Nay, you have the million too, if good wishes count in your favor, Pierre, you are richer”—the bell in the turret of the château began to ring for dinner, drowning her voice somewhat.
“Thanks to the old bell for cutting short the compliment, Pierre,” continued she, laughing; “you don't know what you have lost! but in compensation you shall be my cavalier, and escort me to the dining-room.”
She took the arm of Pierre, and in a merry mood, which brought back sweet memories of the past, their voices echoed again along the old corridors of the Manor House as they proceeded to the great dining-room, where the rest of the company were assembling.