I suppose my face was sad, as most human faces are apt to be when the spirit is busy in its citadel, and has left the outworks of the eyes and mouth to themselves.

So I was sitting quiet, with my hands clasped about my knees, and my face bent down, when a grave, low voice at my side startled me back to consciousness.

Tardif was standing beside me, and looking down upon me with a world of watchful anxiety in his deep eyes.
"You are sad, mam'zelle," he said; "too sad for one so young as you are." "Oh! everybody is sad, Tardif," I answered; "there is a great deal of trouble for every one in this world.

You are often very sad indeed." "Ah! but I have a cause," he said.

"Mam'zelle does not know that she is sitting on the grave of my little wife." He knelt down beside it as he spoke, and laid his hand gently on the green turf.