them forgotten; and as there was a fortnight to elapse before the day of the fête, great pains were taken to nourish and preserve such flowers as might then be required to add beauty and fragrance to the festival.

It was on the eve of the fête, as I was walking with Madame Bulé in one of the avenues of her garden, being deep in conversation on subjects which at that time exercised our minds, in common with many others— subjects which had indeed some tendencies to what our church would have deemed heretical, for my opinions on many of our doctrines were beginning to be more and more confused-when we suddenly heard several angry voices, proceeding from a bosquet, in the centre of which was a circular range of seats, where the young people often assembled during the hours of leisure. Standing still and looking through the openings of the trees, we saw several of the lesser children gathered round Aimée, who had formed a small wreath for her waxen baby from an azure flowering creeper which hung in festoons from an archway of lattice work at the

entrance of the bosquet. The exclamations of rapture uttered by the lesser children had, it seems, attracted the attention of Susette, Fanchon, and several others of the greater girls; and Susette had expressed so much admiration of the wreath, as to declare that, after all, Aimée had made the best choice, and that there was no wreath hitherto thought of that would prove so light and beautiful as that she had chosen. It was just at the moment she had uttered this opinion when Madame and I stood to listen to what was passing.

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The little sly thing! said Fanchon. doubt not but that she had a wreath of this kind always in her mind, and that she would not mention it, lest any of her elders should have insisted on taking it from her.

If she had such an intention, she would have done well to have waited a little longer, said Susette; for it is not now too late for us her elders to change our minds. I am out of humour with the idea of wearing red roses; I have been thinking this very day that I should prefer another colour for my wreath;

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I like that beautiful azure, and I will wear it; and therefore, my little lady, you must please to look for some other ornament for yourself.

I am content, replied Aimée, meekly: adding, If you approve it, mademoiselle, I will help you to make your garland.

And what will you wear yourself? said Susette: you shall, if you please, adopt the rose I have relinquished.

I beg your pardon, Susette, said Fanchon; there is no one who can come before me but yourself; you have given up the rose, and I claim it. I here give notice, that to-morrow I shall wear a garland of roses; and, as we are all to be different, no one else is to dare to assume even a rose bud.

So violent an altercation then ensued between the rivals, that Madame Bulé thought it necessary to interfere; and requiring each of the rival ladies to declare the name of the flower she meant to adopt, she desired that no change of plans might henceforth be resorted to. She did not, however, insist upon the blue wreath being relinquished to Aimée,

as I should have thought but just; it was evident that she was under some dread of Susette and Fanchon, and was afraid of provoking them too far; and it certainly was not my business to interfere, neither did I think the matter of sufficient consequence to induce me so to do.

Susette accordingly declared again for her wreath of roses, whilst Fanchon adopted that of the azure creeper, which was in fact a most elegant ornament. Madame and I then withdrew; but I had scarcely reached

the garden gate on my way home, when I was overtaken by Aimée, who, placing her

little hand within mine, said, My father, you walk out, I think, every morning before breakfast.

I do, my child, I answered.

Will you permit me to accompany you tomorrow? said the little girl. I have obtained permission from Madame. Will you take me to the forest?

Most willingly, I replied. But for what purpose, my child?

She smiled, and with a sweet innocent air repeated these words of an ancient ballad of her own province :

The garden is gay with the gaudy weed,
And attired like the jewell'd queen;
But the flowers of the forest are fair indeed,
Though ofttimes doom'd to blow unseen.

The words, Charming little creature! what innocent device has that gentle bosom now conceived? were upon my lips, but I did not utter my thoughts, and simply answered, I will be at the garden gate before six o'clock to-morrow morning, my little fair one; be sure that you are punctual.

The dew was still upon the herbage, and glistened on every leaf, as I knocked at the