"Well, monsieur, have you kept this resolution?" "A subsequent conversation with two dear friends of mine, high-minded, noble-hearted men, opened my eyes. I saw that I was pursuing a course unworthy of me and of those who loved me. It was decided, however, that, out of consideration for my mother's wishes, I should meet the heiress, and if, after seeing her and knowing her, I loved her as much as I would have loved a penniless and nameless young girl, I would do my best to win her." "Well, monsieur, have you seen this heiress? "Yes, mademoiselle; but when I saw her it was too late." "Too late?" "A love as sudden as it was honourable and sincere for a person who was worthy of it no longer permitted me to appreciate, as she, I am sure, deserves, the young lady my mother wished me to marry." On hearing this honest but delicately worded confession, Mlle. de Beaumesnil could not repress a joyous movement. Gerald loved Herminie as she deserved to be loved, and he had just given fresh proof of his nobility of character by the generosity of his conduct towards Ernestine. The orphan's joyous start had not escaped the watchful eyes of Madame de la Rochaigue, and that lady said, in a low tone, to the duchess: "All is well! Look at Mlle. de Beaumesnil! See what a brilliant colour she has, and how her eyes sparkle!" "Yes," said the duchess, leaning slightly forward to peep at Ernestine, "the poor little thing looks almost pretty, as she listens to Gerald." "One of the greatest triumphs of love is its transfiguration of its object, my dear duchess," answered Madame de la Rochaigue, smiling, "and I am sure your son will not be blind to this triumph." "M. de Senneterre," said Ernestine, "I thank you most sincerely for your frankness and your wise counsels, of which I, perhaps, stand in greater need than you think; but though I am too glad of your presence here to be astonished at it, I should like to know--" "Why I am here this evening, mademoiselle, in spite of my resolution? It is because I wished to avail myself of this opportunity--the only one I shall have, perhaps--to talk to you alone, and perhaps put you on your guard against schemes similar to those to which I so narrowly escaped becoming an accomplice, for not many men, I fear, will be as scrupulous. Your guardian and his wife will lend themselves to any scheme that will serve their interests. They care nothing about your future happiness and welfare. All this is hard, mademoiselle, very hard, and it would be cruel, indeed, in me to arouse this fear and distrust in your heart, if I could not, at the same time, offer you, as a guide and protector, a noble-hearted man who is as much feared by the base and unscrupulous as he is loved by men of worth. Have confidence, perfect confidence, in this man, mademoiselle, though strenuous efforts have been, and will be, made to prejudice you against him." "You refer to M. de Maillefort, do you not?"