Rose and Blanche, confused and affected, looked with interest on the kneeling woman; while Mother Bunch, shedding in silence tears of joy at the thought of Agricola’s happiness, withdrew into the most obscure corner of the room, feeling that she was a stranger, and necessarily out of place in that family meeting.  Frances rose, and took a step towards her husband, who received her in his arms.  There was a moment of solemn silence.  Dagobert and Frances said not a word.  Nothing could be heard but a few sighs, mingled with sighs of joy.  And, when the aged couple looked up, their expression was calm, radiant, serene; for the full and complete enjoyment of simple and pure sentiments never leaves behind a feverish and violent agitation.

“My children,” said the soldier, in tones of emotion, presenting the orphans to Frances, who, after her first agitation, had surveyed them with astonishment, “this is my good and worthy wife; she will be to the daughters of General Simon what I have been to them.”

“Then, madame, you will treat us as your children,” said Rose, approaching Frances with her sister.

“The daughters of General Simon!” cried Dagobert’s wife, more and more astonished.

“Yes, my dear Frances; I have brought them from afar not without some difficulty; but I will tell you that by and by.”

“Poor little things!  One would take them for two angels, exactly alike!” said Frances, contemplating the orphans with as much interest as admiration.

“Now—­for us,” cried Dagobert, turning to his son.

“At last,” rejoined the latter.

We must renounce all attempts to describe the wild joy of Dagobert and his son, and the crushing grip of their hands, which Dagobert interrupted only to look in Agricola’s face; while he rested his hands on the young blacksmith’s broad shoulders that he might see to more advantage his frank masculine countenance, and robust frame.  Then he shook his hand again, exclaiming, “He’s a fine fellow—­well built—­what a good-hearted look he has!”

From a corner of the room Mother Bunch enjoyed Agricola’s happiness; but she feared that her presence, till then unheeded, would be an intrusion.  She wished to withdraw unnoticed, but could not do so.  Dagobert and his son were between her and the door; and she stood unable to take her eyes from the charming faces of Rose and Blanche.  She had never seen anything so winsome; and the extraordinary resemblance of the sisters increased her surprise.  Then, their humble mourning revealing that they were poor, Mother Bunch involuntarily felt more sympathy towards them.

“Dear children!  They are cold; their little hands are frozen, and, unfortunately, the fire is out,” said Frances, She tried to warm the orphans’ hands in hers, while Dagobert and his son gave themselves up to the feelings of affection, so long restrained.