This quiet and simple history of humble affections took its date in a stormy epoch of the world,--the dawning Revolution of France.

The family of Lucille had been little more than a year settled in their new residence when Dumouriez led his army into the Netherlands.
But how meanwhile had that year passed for Lucille?
I have said that her spirit was naturally high; that though so tender, she was not weak.

Her very pilgrimage to Cologne alone, and at the timid age of seventeen, proved that there was a strength in her nature no less than a devotion in her love.

The sacrifice she had made brought its own reward.
She believed St.Amand was happy, and she would not give way to the selfishness of grief; she had still duties to perform; she could still comfort her parents and cheer their age; she could still be all the world to them: she felt this, and was consoled.

Only once during the year had she heard of Julie; she had been seen by a mutual friend at Paris, gay, brilliant, courted, and admired; of St.Amand she heard nothing.
My tale, dear Gertrude, does not lead me through the harsh scenes of war.