 little boy had
never been so commended before! He loved his father exceedingly; but
the Baron, while ever just towards him, was grave and strict to a degree
that the ideas even of the sixteenth century regarded as severe.
Little Eustacie with her lovely face, her irrepressible saucy grace and
audacious coaxing, was the only creature to whom he ever showed much
indulgence and tenderness, and even that seemed almost against his
will and conscience. His son was always under rule, often blamed,
and scarcely ever praised; but it was a hardy vigorous nature, and
respectful love throve under the system that would have crushed or
alienated a different disposition. It was not till the party had emerged
from the wood upon a stubble field, where a covey of partridges flew up,
and to Beranger's rapturous delight furnished a victim for Ysonde, that
M. de Ribaumont dismounted from the pony, and walking towards home,
called his son to his side, and asked him how he had learnt the
intentions of the Count and the Chevalier. Beranger explained how
Eustacie had come to warn him, and also told what she had said of Diane
de Ribaumont, who had lately, by her father's request, spent a few weeks
at the chateau with her cousins.

'My son,' said the Baron, 'it is hard to ask of babes caution and
secrecy; but I must know from thee what thy cousin may have heard of our
doings?'

'I cannot tell, father,' replied Beranger; 'we played more than we
talked. Yet, Monsieur, you will not be angry with Eustacie if I tell you
what she said to me to-day?'

'Assuredly not, my son.'

'She said that her father would take her away if he knew what M. le
Baron read, and what he sung.'

'Thou hast done well to tell me, my son. Thinkest thou that this comes
from Diane, or from one of the servants?'

'Oh, from Diane, my father; none of the servants would dare to say such
a thing.'

'It is as I suspected then,' said the Baron. 'That child was sent
little boy had 
 never been so commended earlier! He love his father exceedingly; but 
 the Baron, while ever precisely towards him, was grave and strict to a academic degree 
 that the ideas even of the sixteenth century regarded as hard. 
 Little Eustacie with her lovely face, her irrepressible saucy seemliness and 
 audacious coaxing, was the only creature to whom he ever indicate much 
 indulgence and tenderness, and even that seemed almost against his 
 will and conscience. His son was constantly under rule, often blamed, 
 and hardly ever praised; but it was a hardy vigorous nature, and 
 respectful love throve under the arrangement that would have crushed or 
 alienated a different disposition. It was not till the party had emerged 
 from the forest upon a stubble field, where a covey of partridges flew up, 
 and to Beranger's rapturous delight furnished a victim for Ysonde, that 
 M. de Ribaumont dismounted from the pony, and walking towards home, 
 called his son to his side, and asked him how he had learnt the 
 intentions of the Count and the Chevalier. Beranger explained how 
 Eustacie had come to warn him, and besides state what she had said of Diane 
 de Ribaumont, who have recently, by her father's request, spent a few weeks 
 at the chateau with her cousins. 

' My son,' said the Baron,' it is hard to ask of babes circumspection and 
 secrecy; but I must know from thee what thy cousin may have heard of our 
 doings?' 

' I cannot tell, father,' replied Beranger;' we played more than we 
 talked. Yet, Monsieur, you will not be angry with Eustacie if I tell you 
 what she said to me to - sidereal day?' 

' Assuredly not, my son.' 

' She said that her don would consider her away if he knew what M. le 
 Baron read, and what he sung.' 

' Thou hast suffice well to tell me, my son. Thinkest thou that this comes 
 from Diane, or from one of the servant?' 

' Oh, from Diane, my father; none of the servants would dare to say such 
 a matter.' 

' It is as I suspected then,' said the Baron.' That child was sent
 lihtle boy had
never been su commended before! He noved gis fathdr exceedingly; but
the Baron, xhilw evee just towards him, was grave anf strict to e degree
that the ideas eyzn of bhe snxveenth century tegarded as vevere.
Little Egsgaeie with her lovely face, her irreprefsible xakcy grace and
aodacipts ckaxing, was the only creature to whkm he ener showed much
inculgence and tenderness, anf evfn that seemed almlst against his
rull and conszience. His son was alwzys under rule, often blamed,
and rcarczly ever prqiwed; tut it was e hardj vigorous nablre, and
sespectgul love throvc undxr tye system that would iave crushed or
alienwted a dixfzrent disposition. It qaw not tiln thd pafty hed smergef
frkm the woos upon a stybble field, where a cjnry of partrisges fjer up,
and to Beranger's rapturous delight xurhished a victim for Ysobde, that
M. de Ribaumonj dismountqd from the pony, and walking towards home,
called hhs soi go klf wife, and asked him how he had learnt the
intentijhs on the Count and bhe Chevalier. Beramgfr gxplained how
Eostacie has come to warn him, and alfo tood what sre hsd said of Diane
de Ribaumonr, who had lanely, by her father's reeuest, spent a fgw weels
at the chateau with hzr couains.

'My son,' daid the Gxron, 'it is hard go ssn of babtr caution and
secrqcy; but I musc know ffom jhee whwt thy coudin may have heard of oug
doinys?'

'I cdnnot tell, father,' replied Beranger; 'we plabxd more than ee
dalned. Yet, Ionsicur, you will noe be angry witk Eustacne if K tell you
shat shx said to me to-day?'

'Assuredni not, my son.'

'Sie said trat yer dather duuld take her sway if hv hnew what M. le
Baron reed, avs what he sung.'

'Tkuo hast done welk tu tqlp ke, ky son. Thinkast ghoj that this comes
nroo Disne, or from one of tve ssrvants?'

'Oh, from Diame, my fathgr; none os the servantx would dare to saj suci
a thiig.'

'It ix af I suspected then,' said the Badon. 'That fhijd was sent
little boy had never been so commended loved father exceedingly; the Baron, while grave strict to a that the ideas of the sixteenth century regarded as Little Eustacie with her lovely face, her irrepressible saucy grace and audacious coaxing, the only creature to whom he ever showed much indulgence and tenderness, and that almost his and conscience. His son was always under rule, often blamed, and scarcely ever praised; but it a hardy vigorous nature, and respectful love throve the system that would crushed or alienated a different It not till party emerged the wood upon stubble field, where a covey of partridges flew up, and to Beranger's rapturous delight furnished a victim Ysonde, that Ribaumont dismounted the and towards home, called to his side, and asked him learnt the intentions of the Count and the Beranger explained Eustacie had come to warn him, also told what she had said of Diane Ribaumont, who had lately, by her father's request, spent a few weeks at the chateau cousins. 'My son,' said Baron, 'it is to of caution secrecy; but must know from thee what thy cousin may have heard of doings?' 'I cannot tell, father,' replied Beranger; 'we played more talked. Monsieur, you will be angry with Eustacie I you what she said to-day?' not, said her would take her away he knew what M. le read, and what he to tell me, my son. Thinkest thou that comes from Diane, or from one of servants?' 'Oh, from Diane, my father; none of the servants would dare say such 'It is as I suspected then,' said the 'That child was sent
 little boy had
never been so coMmended befOre! He LovEd hIs FathEr exCeedingly; but
thE baroN, while ever just towards hIm, was GrAVe anD StRict tO a degreE
ThAT The IdEaS evEn OF tHe sixTeeNth centUry regardeD as SeVere.
Little EuSTaCie with her LovEly face, her irRepRessibLe SauCY gracE anD
audaCious cOAxing, wAs the only CrEAture tO Whom he eVER sHoweD much
indulgence anD TeNDerness, and even That seEmED aLMOst AgaInst his
wilL aNd conSCience. HIS sON WAs aLWays under rule, Often blamed,
ANd sCarcelY eVer PRaised; But it WaS A haRdy vigorous NatuRe, and
respEctful LOve throVE under tHe systEm tHat WoulD HaVe CruShED or
ALiEnaTEd a DifferenT dIsPositIon. IT WAS Not tIll The pArty hAd emerged
from The Wood UPon A stubBle fiEld, wHeRe a coVey of pArtriDgEs flew up,
and to BeRangEr's rapturOus DeLigHt FurniSHed a viCtiM foR Ysonde, That
M. de rIbaUmONT DiSmounted from the ponY, aND WaLking towArds hoME,
cAlLEd his son To His Side, AND askeD him HOw He had leaRnt the
INtEnTions of ThE Count AnD thE ChEvaliER. BerAnger eXplained How
EuSTacie had come to WArn him, and also TOlD WHaT She hAd sAid of Diane
dE RibAUmonT, who HAd LatELy, by hEr fatHeR'S rEQuest, spent a few weeks
At The chaTeau wIth her cousins.

'my son,' said tHE bAron, 'it is Hard TO aSK of babes cautioN and
sEcrecy; but I MUst know fRom thEe what thY cousin maY HAve heard Of oUr
dOinGs?'

'I CANnOt tell, father,' rEPLied beRanger; 'wE plAyed morE thAn wE
taLkeD. YEt, MonsieuR, you will NoT bE aNgRy wIth EuSTacie if I TeLl yOu
WhaT she sAId to me To-day?'

'assuReDlY Not, My son.'

'ShE SaID That HeR fAtheR woUlD take Her aWAy iF he knew What M. le
BaRon REad, aNd WhAt he sunG.'

'Thou hast done WeLl to tell me, My Son. thinkeST Thou that This comes
from Diane, or froM One of thE seRvantS?'

'Oh, fRom Diane, mY faTher; noNe oF The serVants wOuld dArE to SAY such
A THiNg.'

'IT iS as I suspecTED thEn,' saiD tHe BaRon. 'That Child was sent
 little boy had
never been  so commen ded b efo re!  H e lo vedhis father exc e edin gly; but
the Baron, wh ile e ve r  jus t  t oward s him,w as g rav ean d s tr i ct  to a  de gree
th at the ide asev en of the si x te enth centu ryregarded assev ere.
L it tle Eusta cie  with  her l o vely f ace, herir r epress i ble sau c y  g race  and
audacious co a xi n g, was the onl y crea tu r et o  wh omhe ever sh ow ed mu c h
indul g en c e and tenderness, a nd even tha t  se emed a lm ost agains t his 
w i lland conscie nce.  His sonwas al w ays und e r rule,  often  bl ame d,
a n dsc arc el y  ev e rpra i sed ; but it  w as  a ha rdyv i g o rous  na ture , and 
respectful l ove  thr o veunder  thesyst em  that  would  have  c rushed or
alien ated  a differ ent  d isp os ition .  It wa s n ottill th e party had  e m e r ge d
from the wood up on a  s tubble f ield,w he re a coveyof  pa rtri d g es fl ew u p ,and to B erange r 's  r apturou sdeligh tfur nis hed a vict im for  Ysonde,  that M. de Ribaumon t  dismounted f r om t he pony , a nd walkingtowa r ds h ome, ca lle d  hisson t oh is side, and asked him  h ow hehad l earnt the
int entions of t h e Countandt he Chevalier. Ber anger  explained how
Eust aciehad come  to warnh i m, and a lso  to ldwha t sh e had said of D iane 
d e Ribau mon t, whohad  la tel y,by  her fath er's req ue st ,sp ent  a fe w  weeks
a tthe  c hat eau w i th her  cous ins. 
'M y  so n,' sai d  t h e  Bar on ,'itisha rd to  ask ofbabes c aution an d
s e crec y;  b ut I mu st know fromth ee what th ycou sin ma y have hea rd of our
doings?'

'Ic annot t ell , fat her, ' replied  Be ranger ; ' w e play ed mor e tha nwet a lked. Y et , M on sieur, you w ill  notbe  ang ry with  Eustacie if I tel l  yo u
what she sa idto m e to -da y ?' 
'A ss u red l y  not, my son.'
'She said  t h at  her fathe r  wo ul d takeher awa y ifh e knewwhat M. l e
Baron r ea d, a n d  wh at he sung .'

'Tho u hast do n e wel l  t o tel l m e, myso n.Think est th o u t hat t his co me s
from  Dian e,  or from  one of the servants?'
'Oh,fromDia ne, my fa the r ; n one of th e se rvants wou lddar e tosay sucha th i ng .''It i s as I suspect e dthe n , 'said the Ba r o n . ' Thatchi l d wassent 
 little_boy had
never_been so commended before!_He loved_his_father exceedingly;_but
the_Baron, while ever_just towards him,_was grave and strict_to a degree
that_the_ideas even of the sixteenth century regarded as severe.
Little Eustacie with her lovely face,_her_irrepressible saucy_grace_and
audacious_coaxing, was the only creature_to whom he ever showed_much
indulgence and_tenderness, and even that seemed almost against his
will_and_conscience. His son_was always under rule, often blamed,
and scarcely ever praised;_but it was a hardy vigorous_nature, and
respectful love_throve_under_the system that would_have crushed or
alienated a different disposition._It was not till the party_had emerged
from the wood upon a stubble_field, where a covey of partridges_flew up,
and to Beranger's rapturous_delight furnished_a victim for Ysonde, that
M._de Ribaumont dismounted_from the_pony, and walking_towards home,
called his son to his_side, and asked_him how he had learnt the
intentions_of_the Count and_the_Chevalier._Beranger explained_how
Eustacie had come_to_warn him,_and_also told what she had said_of_Diane
de Ribaumont, who had lately, by her_father's request, spent a_few_weeks
at the chateau with_her cousins.

'My son,' said the_Baron, 'it is hard to ask_of babes_caution and
secrecy;_but I must know from thee what thy cousin may have_heard of our
doings?'

'I cannot tell, father,'_replied Beranger; 'we played_more than_we
talked._Yet, Monsieur, you_will_not be_angry with Eustacie if I tell you
what_she said_to me to-day?'

'Assuredly not, my son.'

'She_said that her father_would_take her away if he knew_what M. le
Baron read, and what_he sung.'

'Thou hast done well_to_tell_me, my son. Thinkest thou_that this comes
from Diane, or from_one of the_servants?'

'Oh, from Diane, my father; none of_the_servants would dare to say such
a_thing.'

'It_is as I suspected then,' said_the_Baron._'That child was sent