My child, prepare to leave this house to-night, in haste and in secret. [_Exit with_ GOUROC. DIANE. Fly from this house to-night?--No! I will not go! And yet I must, or tell my father the secret I have kept from him so long. PAUL. [_Outside_.] I am not at home to anyone. I will not brook intrusion here. NANETTE. [_Outside_.] I'll keep out all I can. DIANE. Paul is coming!--How can I tell him we must part? [PAUL _enters_. DIANE _turns quickly toward him_. PAUL. [_Absorbed in documents he is carrying. Crossing slowly to desk, he lays the papers down and, turning, sees_ DIANE.] Diane! Thank heaven you're alone! [DIANE _checks him by a warning gesture; crosses quickly to the door, listens a moment, then slowly approaches_ PAUL, _looking back anxiously_.] Have you no word of welcome for a very weary friend? DIANE. [_Throwing herself with nervous impetuosity into his arms_.] Ah, Paul! God bless and keep you! PAUL. God blessed me beyond measure, when he made your heart my own. DIANE. [_Leading him with nervous intensity to a chair_.] Sit here--sit here! [_She sits beside him_.] Let me look at your face, and listen to your voice, while I can--while I can! PAUL. How strangely you say this! DIANE. Do you remember the old days--before this reign of terror darkened all our lives--the sunny room in my father's chateau, where you taught me to paint the flowers we had gathered--oh! so gaily!--from the quaintest corners of the garden? PAUL. Ah! those were ideal days.--You, almost a child--a girl just blooming into womanhood, like those rosebuds in your hair. DIANE. Oh, how happy I was!--So happy, earth seemed heaven! So happy, sorrow seemed almost a myth!--I little dreamed that I would ever drink the bitterest dregs of that black cup.--The Revolution rushed upon us--and then, oh then!-- [_Hides her face on_ PAUL'S _breast_. PAUL. Then we parted, I thought forever. DIANE. You came no longer. The sunshine lost its smile--the flowers faded. PAUL. And yet, amidst the fearful tumult of these distracted times, we met once more. DIANE. [_Starting up_.] Oh, my God! That meeting! I see the frightful scene again! My father there before me--old--helpless, dragged from his own house by a horde of brutal beasts.--I, shrieking, fighting vainly at his side--amidst their mocking laughs and jeers. Ah! I can hear them now--yes, and high above their hideous jests, rings out a clarion voice--'tis yours--silencing this crowd of curs!--With what sublime audacity you claim my father as your cousin, saving him and me, by the coolness of your courage!--Paul, from that hour you were more than man to me; you were a God, a hero, my father's Saviour! PAUL. [_Rising_.] Better than all that now--your lover--guardian--husband. [_Embraces her, then staggers_. DIANE. Paul--what is it? PAUL. Nothing,--fatigue from last night's bitter work. [DIANE _brings wine and offers it. He puts it away_.]