"We will say no more about it, then, my dear sister," said the abbe, with a contrite air. "In calling your attention to M. Celestin de Macreuse, I had but one object in view. That was to save you from the slightest anxiety concerning your dear Ernestine's future. You speak of sacrifices, my sister, but permit me to say that the great danger is that your poor child will be sacrificed some day to some man who is unworthy of her,--to some irreligious, dissipated spendthrift. You are unwilling to influence your daughter in her choice of a husband, you say. But alas! who will guide her in her choice if she has the misfortune to lose you? Will it be her selfish, worldly relatives, or will your too artless and credulous child blindly yield to the promptings of her heart. Ah, my sister, think of the dangers and the deception to which she will inevitably be exposed! Think of the crowd of suitors which her immense fortune is sure to attract! Ah, believe me, my sister, it would be wiser to save her from these perils in advance by a prudent and sensible choice." "Forgive me, my father," said Madame de Beaumesnil, greatly agitated, and evidently desirous of putting an end to this painful conversation; "but I am feeling very weak and tired. I appreciate and am truly grateful for the interest you take in my daughter. I shall do my duty faithfully by her so long as I am spared. Your words will not be forgotten, I assure you, my father, and may Heaven give me the strength and the time to act." Too shrewd and crafty to press the claims of his protege further, Abbe Ledoux said, benignly: "May Heaven inspire you, my sister. I doubt not that our gracious Lord will make your duty as a mother clear to you. Courage, my sister, courage. And now farewell until to-morrow." "The morrow belongs to God." "I can at least implore him to prolong your days, my sister," answered the priest, bowing low. He left the room. The door had scarcely closed behind him before the countess rang for one of her attendants. "Is Mlle. Herminie here?" she asked. "Yes, madame la comtesse." "Ask her to come in. I wish to see her." "Yes, madame la comtesse," replied the maid, hastening off to fulfil her employer's instructions. * * * * * A few minutes afterwards, Herminie, pale and sad, though apparently calm, entered Madame de Beaumesnil's chamber, with her music books in her hand. "I was told that madame la comtesse wished to see me," she said, with marked deference. "Yes, mademoiselle. I have--I have a favour to ask of you," replied Madame de Beaumesnil, who was racking her brain to devise some way of bringing her daughter closer to her. "I am entirely at madame's service," Herminie answered, promptly but quietly.