side had been carefully pruned, so that their branches met in an arch overhead, and framed in a most astonishing picture.  Instead of the dreary ruin, slowly crumbling into dust, a fine new chateau rose before them—­resembling the old one as a son resembles his father.  It was an exact reproduction—­nothing had been changed, only renewed—­it was simply the ancient mansion rejuvenated.  The walls were smooth and unbroken, the lofty towers intact, rising proudly at the four angles of the building, with their freshly gilded weathercocks gleaming in the sunlight.  A handsome new roof, tastefully ornamented with a pretty design in different coloured slates, had replaced the broken, weather-stained tiles, through which the rain used to find its way down into the frescoed hall, and the long suite of deserted rooms.  Every window had bright large panes of clear glass shining in its casement, and a magnificent great door, turning smoothly and noiselessly upon its huge hinges, had superseded the old, worm-eaten one, that used to groan and creak piteously when opened ever so little.  Above it shone the de Sigognac arms—­three golden storks upon an azure field, with this noble motto—­entirely obliterated of old—­“Alta petunt.”

For a few moments de Sigognac gazed at it all in silence, overcome by astonishment and emotion.  Then he suddenly turned to Isabelle, with joyful surprise written in every line of his speaking countenance, and seizing her hands passionately, and holding them firmly clasped in his, said:  “It is to you, my kind, generous fairy, that I owe this marvellous transformation of my poor, dilapidated, old chateau.  You have touched it with your wand and restored its ancient splendour, majesty and youth.  I cannot tell you how enchanted, how gratified I am by this wonderful surprise.  It is unspeakably charming and delightful, like everything that emanates from my good angel.  Without a word or hint from me, you have divined, and carried out, the secret and most earnest wish of my heart.”

“You must also thank a certain sorcerer, who has greatly aided me in all this,” said Isabelle softly, touched by her husband’s emotion and delight, and pointing to Vallombreuse, who was sitting opposite to her.  The two young men clasped hands for a moment, and smiled at each other in friendly fashion.  There was a perfect under standing between these kindred spirits now, and no words were needed on either side.

By this time the carriage had reached the chateau, where Pierre, in a fine new livery—­and a tremor of delight—­was waiting to receive them.  After an affectionate, as well as respectful, greeting from the faithful old servant, they entered the grand portico, which had been, like all the rest, admirably restored, and, alighting from the carriage, paused a moment to admire its magnificent proportions ere they passed on into the frescoed hall, where eight or ten tall lackeys were drawn up in line, and bowed profoundly to their new master and mistress.  Skilful