"Ferdinand, Prince of Bernstorf--" "Yes--" "Is one that I never, never can love--one that I had rather should see me in the grave ere he shall call me wife." "Ha! well, loveliest cousin, that is plain, and easy to be understood even by the slowest comprehension. Thou hatest him, dost thou?" "Most cordially." "My son thanks thee, fair cousin--and I also, in his name." "Thy son!" "Ay, and here he is to thank thee himself. How now, scapegrace! Thou art tardy in paying thy respects to this beautiful, noble lady. Thou shouldst have been here days ago. Even now thy fair cousin was on the point of refusing thee. I tell thee, lad, thou'lt never find a fairer. Courting was not done in this slipshod way when I was a boy." All this while Isoleth was gazing in mute astonishment upon--yes, she was not mistaken--he was the very one--the very most beautiful being to whom she had given, only the night before, her precious little heart. And those dark, earnest eyes were passionately regarding her, drinking in rapturously her glowing beauty, until her eyes, abashed, sought the floor, unable to bear the light of those intensely loving ones. "Then thou'rt the _Duke_ of Bernstorf, my father's cousin?" suddenly asked she, of Ferdinand the elder. "Who else, fairest cousin? Ha! thou didst then think--" a sudden light seemed to break through the chambers of his brain. "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed he, "Thou thoughtest that _I_ was the one. I could not wish a fairer, more beautiful bride than thou; but--ha! ha! ha! I have one goodly wife already, who is to be here this very day; and, between you and I, one is more than I can manage, although she is one of the best of her perfect, bewitching sex. Still--So, that was the reason thou wert so shy of me, sweet flower." And the father, Ferdinand, threw himself back in his chair, and gave way to the most uncontrollable bursts of laughter; while Ferdinand, the son, had taken the soft, lily-white hand of his lovely betrothed, and was talking to her in words from his heart's heart.