And my pommier had not altogether escaped; one branch had been struck--the very branch on the sunny side from which bon papa had picked the apple, as he afterwards showed me! That my life had been spared was little less than a miracle." Marie paused....
[Illustration: UNDER THE APPLE-TREE.] "I left the orchard, my little young ladies and young Monsieur," she went on after a moment or two, "a very different girl from the one that had entered it.

I went straight to the house, and confessed all--my naughty intention of leaving them all, my discontent and pride, and all my bad feelings.

And they forgave me--the good people--they forgave me all, and bon papa took me in his arms and blessed me, and I promised him not to leave him while he lived.

Nor did I--it was not so long--he died the next year, the dear old man! What would my feelings have been had I been away in Paris ?" Old as she was, Marie stopped to wipe away a tear.

"It is nearly sixty years ago, yet still the tears come when I think of it," she said.