Guizot says, 'England renounced a few unimportant towns ; France yielded the empire of the Indies.' When the treaty was signed, Bussy, Dupleix's intended son-in-law, was in hopes of at last winning Trichinopoly. He was furious and wanted to throw up everything and come home; but Dupleix would not hear of it, and left him, hoping that the cause of France in India might revive in his hands.

Dupleix with his wife and daughter sailed for France. He had embarked all his gains on his schemes of conquest, but the revenues that were to reimburse him were seized by Godcheu, and he went home a ruined man. He was, however, received with distinction by the King and Madame de Pompadour, and he and his wife were admired as wonders and mobbed by enthusiastic crowds, and promises both for himself and India were freely made to him. Not one of them was kept. He sank into poverty; his wife, poor Princess Jeanne, died, worn out with disappointment, in two years' time; his daughter, so long the betrothed of Bussy, did not long survive her, and the few remaining years of Dupleix's own life were spent miserably, tormented by creditors, and by the reproaches of the friends and relations who had been led by him to embark their fortunes in a cause which but for the desertion of his government would probably have been successful in such measure as to yield them ample returns. He died in 1765, just in time to be saved from a debtor's prison.

IN AN ORCHARD.

BY KATHARINE S. MACQUOID.

PART III.

CHAPTER VII.

A PROPOSAL.

IT is spring-time again, and the apple-trees are again lovely with blossom. Gabrielle wondered why the orchards round Caen seemed so inferior to those of Côme; the surrounding country too was flat and uninteresting, without a glimpse of the deep blue sea that seemed the natural horizon to the pink and white flecked orchards, for a sight of which she pined.

She had grown tired of Caen. At first she had thought it delightful to live in a big town, with beautiful shops-she had never dreamed of such cakes and confectionery as were to be seen in the Rue St. Jean, and in the street that leads from the church of St. Pierre to the Abbaye aux Hommes; but the first glamour soon passed away. She had also grown very tired of the good nuns to whom she went every day for lessons in fine embroidery and music, accomplishments which Madame Lagrive considered might be necessary for the wife of Charlot Marie. The lessons had made a pretext for spending all these months in Caen; but the real reason had been to effect a separation between Gabrielle and Pierre Sarrazin.

When, after parting from Yves, Gabrielle rushed into her grand-aunt's house in a fit of hysteric terror, she declared that she would not stay in Côme; she could not risk the chance of another meeting with that cruel man. She begged her aunt and cousin to send her back to school, but Madame Lagrive decided that the money might be better spent; besides she felt that at

his son.

Caen, Gabrielle would be farther out of reach of both Yves and Côme was then full of visitors; it had been easy to let the cottage for the remainder of August and for September; Léonie could lodge with the Maries. And so it happened that Gabrielle and her grand-aunt were transplanted to Caen a week or so after Yves Sarrazin's audacious proposal.

Gabrielle congratulated herself on having escaped the scolding she had expected for her walks with the young fisherman; but at Caen she soon saw that she had no further chance of walks with any companion of her own choosing. Madame Lagrive walked with her to and from the convent; after the convent meal, Gabrielle could play in the garden with the Orphanage little ones, and this was her chief enjoyment.

Christmas brought cousin Léonie, and news of Côme; Madame Marie had come home much improved in health, and the temporary housekeeper was now dispensed with. Léonie told her mother, in confidence, she was glad of this; she thought Léocadie had taken far too much on herself. Charlot was in Paris preparing for the spring examination; if he succeeded in taking the degree he hoped for, he would at once set up as a doctor in Bayeux-probably before the next bathing season. At this piece of news the mother and daughter looked significantly at one another, and Mademoiselle Léonie, who had a wonderful head for figures, began to tot down the various items, and their cost, required for Gabrielle's trousseau. This had happened months ago, and now, though the girl did not know it, a good deal of needlework was being quietly done for her in the convent school.

Gabrielle was utterly weary of the dull, monotonous life. She began to hate her lessons; even the kind Sisters jarred herthey were so ignorant, she told herself, and they laughed at the silliest jokes. To-day, on the way home, she said suddenly

'Grand-aunt, how much longer do you mean to stay here? I can embroider quite well enough now; and as for the music lessons, it is only waste of time. I shall never play well, if I practise for ever; I do not care for it.'

Madame Lagrive was taken by surprise; she had to consider before she answered.

'I had thought of going home for Whitsuntide,' she said; 'but we can, of course, go rather sooner.'

Gabrielle clapped her hands with joy; she saw some one look across the street at her, and she became once more recollected. If

her stay in Caen had done little else for her, the restraint enforced by a town-life had at least taught her outward self-control.

'Are you tired of Caen, or do you want to be back in Cômewhich is it?' the grand-aunt asked.

Gabrielle laughed.

'I expect it is both: for one thing, I long to see Monsieur Marie's apple-orchard before the trees are out of flower.'

Madame Lagrive felt curious to know how large a share the wish to see Pierre Sarrazin might have in Gabrielle's home-sickness, but the old woman had not spoken of him since they reached Caen. She sometimes felt very anxious, for it was possible that, if Gabrielle's walks had been gossiped about to Madame Marie, she might object to receive the girl as a daughter-in-law.

They had found a cheap lodging in the Place Royale: the sun was shining brightly this afternoon on the trees in the pleasant garden of the square, and from the garden a gentleman came across to meet them. It was Charlot. He looked so much older and so changed that Gabrielle did not at first recognise him. His smile, as he came up, made her exclaim

'Charlot! And I was just thinking of the apple-orchard.'

Charlot reddened and looked once more boyish, in spite of his big whiskers and moustache, his splendid frock coat and new gloves. He turned to Madame Lagrive.

'Mademoiselle Léonie sent me your address, Madame; I have come straight from Paris.'

'You have, then, gained your diploma?' the old woman said. He bent his head, and smiled.

'Yes, Madame; and I am ready to doctor you to-morrow,' he said mischievously; 'but I trust it may be long before you will require my services. I hope to be settled in Bayeux in a month or so.'

Gabrielle was feeling left out in the cold; it was so strange of Charlot to tell all his news to her companion, instead of to her. She was too proud to ask a question as she followed her grandaunt into their lodging.

While they sat talking, the girl watched Charlot. It seemed to her he was ill at ease, and at last she tried to join in the talk, because she thought it had sunk to utter dulness; she wondered what could have happened to Charlot; he always used to be ready to turn everything into fun. Madame Lagrive asked him if he would sup with them, and at this he looked happier.

'Thank you, Madame. Suppose, when you have rested, we go

for a walk?—then, if it pleases you, we will sup at a restaurant, and stay out as long as possible.'

He looked at Gabrielle while he spoke, and the joy that lighted up her eyes encouraged him.

'That will be very pleasant,' the old woman said; 'but, Gabrielle, you must change your hat and your frock; you must look smart, if we are to go out walking with the Doctor.'

Charlot laughed; then, when the door had closed on the girl, he said eagerly—

'You guess why I am come, Madame? I must know from you whether I am permitted to pay court to her.'

Madame Lagrive looked grave.

Surely, my dear young friend, that is a question to be arranged between your mother and me? That can be settled when we go back to Côme.'

Pardon me, Madame, I think not-at least, I cannot wait. I have spoken both to my father and my mother; the only objection they urge is that Gabrielle is so young, and the condition my mother made in her last letter was that I should be quite sure of my own feelings.' He laughed at this, and added, 'I thought the only way to assure myself—though I needed no assurance-was to see her, the dear one again, as soon as possible; and here I am.'

'Do you, then, wish me to speak to Gabrielle ?'

He shook his head, took her wrinkled hand, and kissed it. 'I want more than that. I am romantic, you know; I want to walk beside her this evening, and to speak for myself. You need not listen to my nonsense, Madame-you can trust me, can you not?'

Madame Lagrive felt disturbed; she shook her head at this irregular proposal.

'It is unheard of, my boy. What would your mother say? She would be shocked that I should countenance such a proceeding. I have been told that such a thing happens in England, but that is not a civilised country like ours. Gabrielle naturally expects that I shall give her a husband when she is old enough; after I have presented you to her, you can say what you please.'

She sat up stiffly in her chair, but Charlot affectionately patted her shoulder.

'Do not worry yourself,' he said. 'I shall tell my mother that you did your duty, like the model grand-aunt that you are, and that I was too much for you; she will rejoice if I succeed in