figures, and the taste which each had displayed in the arrangement of her fragrant ornaments. The last of the procession was Madame Bulé herself, leading the youngest of her pupils and little Aimée by the hand: the exercise and excitement of the scene had given an extraordinary lustre to the complexion of my little favourite, yet her eyes retained their usually placid and gentle expression. She seemed to be attentive to what passed, and also pleased; but there was not that restless anxiety in her countenance which was remarkable in all those among her companions who thought they had any chance of obtaining the crown; her enjoyment of the scene was therefore as unmixed as it had been when she was gathering her favourite flowers in the depths of the forest. She, like the rest of her companions, was attired in white, and with no other head-dress than those clustering ringlets which, together with the delicate tincture of her skin, marked her Saxon ancestry. She had formed a lovely garland of her lilies, having woven them together with a band of light-green ribands, tied on her right shoulder with a knot, and falling under her left arm. I saw the eyes of the Baronne rest upon this lovely child for a moment; but as soon as Madame Bulé dropped her hand, she receded into the background, and her elegant form was soon wholly shrouded by the more splendid figures of her companions.

Our nation are remarkable for being able to pay a compliment with grace and delicacy; and what occasion, I would ask, could have administered fairer opportunities of doing this with truth than the present? Neither were the gentlemen, or even the ladies, then present, slow in availing themselves of these opportunities; every comparison or simile in which flowers have any concern was called forth on the occasion, and the exhilaration of the moment enabled even the most dull to do this with effect. But did I say dull? What Frenchwoman was ever dull in a scene such as the lawn then presented?

"Your Feast of the Flowers, Madame la Baronne," said the Viscomtesse de T, "is splendid, is superb-it surpasses all I could have conceived of a thing of the kind. Yet I cannot say that these elegant garlands add beauty to these charming young ladies; I would rather say that these flowers derive new splendour from the beauty of those who wear them." And she appealed

for the confirmation of her assertion to the Comte de S―, one of the few specimens then remaining of the court of Louis XVI.

Being thus called upon, the old courtier endeavoured to produce some compliment of a superior nature to that of the lady, and asserted, that the roses were grown pale, and the jasmines yellow, for envy, to find that their bloom and sweetness were entirely surpassed by those who had chosen them for ornaments.

This species of light and trifling conversation had proceeded for some time, when the Baronne took her place beneath the statue, and, having commanded the band to cease their strain, caused the crown to be handed to her; while, by the direction of Madame Bulé, the young ladies formed a half-circle around her, the rest of the company, of whatever degree they might be, gathering close in the back-ground.

There was a momentary pause and dead silence in the company, while a servant climbed upon the high pedestal of the statue and carefully lifted the crown from the head. It was then delivered into the hands of the Baronne, and as I stood next to her, I saw that it was a beautiful thing; it was not of real myrtle, which would presently have faded, but was an imitation of myrtle, the leaves being formed of foil, the flowers of gold and mother-of-pearl, and the berries of coral; it was beautifully executed, and the motto, in letters of gold wrought on a blue riband, twisted into the wreath. The Viscomtesse de T- who stood on the

right-hand of the Baronne, as I did at the left, would have taken it for a moment into her own hands, exclaiming, "Permit me, madame; ah, how beautiful! it is perfectly captivating!" But the Baronne would not part with it from her hand, nor suffer the golden letters on the blue riband to be read.

"I am, I feel," she said, " in a perilous situation; I am about to make a choice amid so many beauties, that I shall be in danger of incurring the odium of possessing a bad taste in still rejecting the most worthy, let my choice fall where it will; and I therefore have nothing but my motto to depend upon to extricate me from this difficulty: therefore none must see my motto till I choose to show it myself."

The Baronne then paused and looked around her, and as her eye ran along the lovely circle, I saw that sev

eral of the young ladies changed colour, especially the two at the head, namely, Susette and Fanchon; and such was indeed the charming bloom of one of these young ladies, and the elegance of the other, that I never doubted but that the crown would be adjudged to one of them.

"You are at a loss, madame, I see," said the Comte de S," and I cannot wonder at your embarrassment; there are so many beautiful figures in this circle, that it would be very difficult to say to whom the golden apple ought to be given."

"Pardon me," replied the lady, in a voice which, though low, was so distinct as to be heard by all present, "but you have mistaken my intention.-It is not to the most beautiful or the most accomplished, the fairest or the ruddiest, the most witty or the most discreet, that my crown is to be given; but to her who, in my opinion, understands how to select the most becoming ornament."

"So far we understand madame," said the Abbé, 66 nor would we be so impolite as to question your taste. Madame la Baronne can never be supposed to judge amiss in the eyes of persons of discernment, but perhaps we may not all here present be persons of discernment, and madame has undertaken to render every person in this company satisfied with her decision, and she depends upon her motto to stop the mouths of every one. Indeed, madame, unless your motto is a very extraordinary one, I do declare" (and he shrugged up his shoulders and smiled) "you are in great peril. I am, I confess, in great pain for you, madame.”

"Well, then, my friend," replied the Baronne, "I will hasten to place you at ease. Ladies and gentlemen, you shall hear my motto, and I am assured that no one here present will dispute its authority when I assure them that it is divine, and that it is taken from the Holy Scriptures." So saying, she untwisted the riband from the myrtle crown; and stating that the passage was addressed by St. Peter to his female converts, she proceeded to read it in a soft, yet clear and distinct voice: it was to the following effect:-" Whose adorning let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or putting on of apparel; but let it be the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price." 1 Peter iii. 3.

CHAPTER

WHEN the Baronne had cease and her eyes were directed to the valley," she said, "is the ac humility; this sweet flower con its verdant covering; it is spotl its leaves have a cooling and hea retirement and shade, yet when quisitely lovely. The lily, ther as the best chosen ornament for therefore I must adjudge my cro the lily."

There was a murmur of appla sembly on this decision, and ev the little girl, who came blushing mand of the lady.

66 Aimée," ," said the Baronne, as humbly before her, "I rejoice tha feeling of love and esteem, besto preference; your character has lo and the purity, humility, and harn duct, since you entered the fam have not only been noticed by m with admiration. In those talent ties which are pleasing in our sex now present, and you will thorou the regard I now express has no qualities; it is your humility and ness, your exemption from envy, a bad passions, which constitute you ornament, even that ornament whi

So saying, she raised the myr head of Aimée, and was about to the little girl, bending low and fall manner which I thought exceedi her lovely eyes to the lady and could I wear that crown I should sembled what is but too true, that it. I desire, indeed, to be like the

80. I know my own heart; I know that it is full of evil passions, and if I do not betray these evil passions so often as I feel them, it is not to my own strength I dare to give the glory. My dear lady, do not put the crown upon my head.'

There was a dead silence in the assembly, every one was impressed with a solemn feeling: at length it was broken by the lady, who said, while holding the myrtle wreath over the head of the kneeling child," Aimée, my beloved, indeed you must not resist our united entreaties, you must submit to wear the honour you have so justly merited."

66

Ah, no, lady, dear lady!" she replied, lifting up her face as she knelt, with a sweet and unaffected earnestness; "no, no! it cannot be ;" and at the same time gently removing the garland of lilies from her shoulders and laying it on the grass at the Baroness's feet. "I am neither worthy to wear the lily nor the crown; sweet lady, place the crown upon the garland, and then I will endeavour to merit both; at least," she added, "if not in life, yet perhaps in death, for then-then I shall be." But we could not catch the last part of the sentence, for the little girl was unable to speak clearly, by reason of her tears.

"Aimée ! lovely Aimée ! sweet, sweet child! you have conquered," exclaimed the Baronne, laying the crown at her feet upon the garland, and then coming forward, she embraced the child, and wept as she pressed her to her heart.

It was an awful feeling that impressed the company at that moment; the tear was in every eye. The Abbe whispered to me, "Heaven have mercy upon me a sinner! If that child thinks herself impure in the eyes even of her fellow-creatures, what am I in the sight of God!" and he crossed himself. I heard expressions of the same nature from many mouths; and Susette pleased me much, by assuring me that she now felt ashamed of herself and of her own vainglorious opinions of her merits.

It is hardly necessary that I should assure my reader that the conduct of Aimée on this and on all other occasions evidently showed that there was no art or affectation in her conduct-no pretence of humility which she did not actually feel, but really a deep and heartfelt sense of her own unworthiness, and an utter disregard of what effect might result from her conduct, or what