Chamberss Edinburgh Journal, No. 427 | Page 8

beneath the
trees, whence she might behold the installation. Then Julia retired with

those appointed to be her attendants--her tiring-women, the ladies of
her court; and when, some time after, she came forth, blushing and
trembling, and with happy tears upon her face, wearing her simple
holiday dress of white muslin, ornamented, in charming style, with
wreaths of roses, the cries of 'Vive la rosière!' might have been heard a
long way off.
A little while, and sounds of music and of many voices filled the
Grande Allée. The long rows of booths and marquées, dancing-rooms,
gymnasiums, toy-tables, bonbon tables, fruit-stalls, &c. &c. were
surrounded by busy crowds: all was activity and cheerfulness. In a
large open space in the midst, a short distance from the front of the
château, the flowery throne, gorgeous in variety and vividness of
colours, was set up on a dais on the greensward. The band of celebrants,
with Julia and her train in their midst, advanced. Little Cecilia walked
by her sister's side, hand in hand, in proud surprise. Before them, an
aged peasant marched solemnly, bareheaded save for his silver hair,
carrying the crown destined for Julia; and with him, also bareheaded,
the curé. A benediction, accompanied by a prayer that the metaphorical
ceremony might have some influence in attracting the youthful people
present to the practice and pursuit of virtue, having been uttered by the
priest, Julia was handed to the throne, and the crown of roses was
placed upon her head by the white-haired veteran. A sweet chorus was
then chanted--_Vive, vive la rosière_!--in the melodious verses of
which the signification of the ceremonial and the praises of the
fête-queen were recited.
Thus far matters had proceeded happily, when the attention of the gay
party was attracted by the apparition of a commissaire of police, who,
marching up with the aspect of a man having important and
disagreeable business to perform, exclaimed: '_Eh, bien!_ we are merry
to-day! Accept my best wishes for your enjoyment. Can you tell me,
friends, where I am likely to find a fair _demoiselle_--one Julia,
daughter of Mme Veuve Gostillon?'
'Voila, monsieur!' cried several, much surprised. 'Our _rosière_ is she!'
'Ah, what a fate is mine!' muttered the worthy commissaire, much

affected, as he looked at the beautiful and rose-wreathed Julia. 'If I had
ten thousand francs, I would give them all to be spared this work: but
duty is duty. Courage! all may yet be well. Friends,' continued he,
raising his voice, 'excuse me if I interrupt you some few minutes. I
would not do it were I not bound to. It will be necessary for Mlle Julia
to accompany me to her home. I trust we shall not be absent long.' He
raised his cap, offered his arm; and Julia, amazed and frightened,
descended from her throne, and conducted him to the cottage.
'Pardon, mademoiselle,' said he, when they stood inside; 'I am
instructed to search this house.' Julia, puzzled, confounded, bowed
assent.
The commissaire proceeded, with a hasty hand, as if he wished to get
the work quickly over, to ransack drawers and boxes. Whenever one or
the other had been searched in vain, he clapped his hand to his breast
and muttered: 'God be thanked!' and appeared as if his mind were in
some measure relieved of a burden which oppressed it. At length he
arrived at Julia's chamber--here, as elsewhere, drawers and boxes
seemed to present no signs of the object sought for: the thanksgivings
of the commissaire were frequent; his cheerfulness appeared to be
returning. Presently, however, he proceeded to turn out the contents of
Julia's little reticule-basket: first came a pocket-handkerchief, on the
corners of which flowers had been wrought by Julia's needle. 'Very
pretty!' remarked the commissaire. Then appeared a number of slips of
rare plants, recently collected. 'Ah! you are a botanist?' said the
commissaire.
'They are from the conservatory of the Comte Meurien, at the château: I
meant to have planted them to-day,' said Julia.
'Who gave them to you?'
'Mme Lavine, the femme de chambre.'
'Ah, diable! I hope you have nothing else from that château?'
'I have nothing else,' replied Julia, blushing, and somewhat

discomposed, as she remembered Victor.
'What is the matter?--why are you agitated?' demanded the commissaire,
regarding her fixedly.
'It is nothing,' said poor Julia, much distressed by his stern and
scrutinising look.
'Nothing? I fear it is something! Alas! I begin to lose hope.'
'Hope of what?' asked Julia wonderingly.
'Of your innocence!' replied the commissaire sternly.
'Mon Dieu! What do you mean?'
'Ah, restez tranquille, pauvre demoiselle; nous verrons toute-suite.' And
with a shrug, he continued his investigation of the contents of the
reticule-basket. It contained a great variety of little knick-knacks, which,
with much patience, the commissaire turned out and examined,