"I, my lord!" cried Madame d'Harville. "What do you say?" "I entreat you, do not refuse me; let this day decide my future happiness," said Rudolph tenderly. Clémence also had loved the prince for a long time; she thought she was in a dream. The avowal of Rudolph, at once so simple, so serious, so touching--made under such circumstances, transported her with an unhoped-for happiness; she answered, hesitatingly, "My lord, it is for you to recall to mind the difference of rank--the interest of your sovereignty." "First let me think of the interest of my heart--of that of my cherished daughter; make us both happy--oh! very happy. Permit me, who but now was without family, to say, 'My wife--my daughter;' allow this poor child--also without family--to say, 'My father--my mother--my sister;' for you have a daughter, who will become mine." "Oh! my lord, to such noble words one can only answer by grateful tears," cried Clémence. Then, composing herself, she added, "My lord, some one comes; it is your child." "Oh! do not refuse me," cried Rudolph, in a supplicating voice; "in the name of my love, say our child." "Our child," murmured Clémence; at the same moment Murphy opened the door, leading in Fleur-de-Marie. The girl, descending from the carriage, had crossed an ante-chamber, filled with footmen in full livery; a waiting-room, where valets attended; then the ushers' saloon; and, finally, the waiting-rooms, occupied by a chamberlain and the aides of the prince in full uniform. Let the reader imagine the astonishment of the poor Goualeuse, who knew no other splendors than those of the farm at Bouqueval, on traversing these princely apartments, resplendent with gold, mirrors, and paintings. As soon as she appeared, Lady d'Harville ran toward her, took her by the hand, and placing her arm around her for support, she conducted her toward the prince, who, standing near the chimney, had not been able to move. Murphy, after having confided Fleur-de Marie to the care of Lady d'Harville, hastily disappeared behind the folds of one of the immense window-curtains, finding that he was not altogether sure of his self-possession. At the sight of her benefactor, her savior, who regarded her with silent ecstasy, Fleur-de-Marie, already so agitated, began to tremble. "Compose yourself, my child," said Lady d'Harville; "there is your friend, M. Rudolph, who awaits you impatiently; he has been very uneasy about you." "Oh! yes, very--very uneasy," said Rudolph, still immovable, his heart almost breaking at the sight of the sweet pale face of his child. Thus, in spite of his resolution, the prince was for a moment obliged to turn his head to conceal his emotion.