"My God!" she cried, passionately, "he did love me then: what a fool I have been! Wicked pride, to what will you lead me?" "My Geraldine," exclaimed Alfred, who rose from a chair where he had been seated in a dark corner, "pardon me! But I could not resist the temptation. To see, to hear you once more, for the last time, was my only wish. Do you forgive me?" "Do you forgive _me_?" said Geraldine, hanging down her head, and speaking in a low, soft, sweet voice, that had never been hers before. "My God!--what?" exclaimed Alfred, who, pale and trembling, stood by her side. "You will not force me to say, Alfred," she continued in a beseeching tone. "Do I understand aright? O forgive me, Geraldine, if I say too much; but is it possible that you do not hate me?" "Hate you, Alfred! How can I hate one so generous and good? If you think me not bold to say it, I will say I love you. After behaving as I did, that confession will be my punishment." "My Geraldine! then why did you refuse me?" cried Alfred, in a tone of passionate delight. "Because you did not seem to love me; because you only in my eyes sought to marry me because others did." "Geraldine, I seemed cold because I loved you with all my heart and soul. But I was a known satirist on marriage, and I was ashamed to let the world see my deep affection. I wanted them to think that I married merely because it was a triumph to carry off the reigning belle." "You deceived me and all the world together," replied Geraldine; "but to own the truth, after you were gone and took my rose with you, I guessed the truth." "The rose! but did you know--" "I guessed--" "My God!" cried Edouard, returning alone to fetch Geraldine, to whom he wanted to show the garden, "what is the meaning of this?" "My good cousin," said Geraldine, advancing toward him, and taking both his hands, "come here; you will forgive Geraldine, won't you? I have been very wicked. Do excuse your cousin, will you not? but I was only going to marry you because I thought Alfred did not love me." "_Hein!_" cried Edouard, quite bewildered. "Don't be angry with me," continued Geraldine, gravely: "I should have been a very good wife, and have loved you very much had I married you." "Oh, then, you do not mean to marry me now?" said Edouard, in a tone of deep sadness. "What am I to do?" cried Geraldine. "See, my dear cousin, how he loved me! How can I marry you when my heart is given to another?" "You were going to do so, but for a shower of rain," said Edouard, with a vain attempt at gravity. "But take her, M. Alfred: I think after all I'm lucky to have escaped her! I don't forgive you a bit, because it's hard to find out that when at last one thinks one's self loved, the lady was only pretending." "You do forgive me!" exclaimed Geraldine, shaking her head, and putting his hand into that of Alfred, who shook it warmly.