“May I anticipate the kindness--which your sister would not refuse me,” continued he, “and introduce myself. You may, perhaps, have heard of the Abbé D'Esmonde?” “Repeatedly,” cried Frank, taking the proffered hand in his own. “Nelly spoke of you in almost every letter. You were always so kind to Kate in Italy.” “How amply am I recompensed, were not the pleasure of knowing Miss Dalton a sufficient reward in itself. It is rare to find that combination of excellence which can command all the homage of fashion, and yet win the approbation of a poor priest.” There was a humility, deep enough to be almost painful, in the tone in which these words were uttered; but Frank had little time to dwell on them, for already the Abbé had taken a seat on the sofa beside him, and was deep in the discussion of all Kate's attractions and merits. There was a sincerity, an ardor of admiration, chastened only by the temper of his sacred character, that delighted the boy. If allusion were made to her beauty, it was only to heighten the praise he bestowed on her for other gifts, and display the regulated action of a mind proof against every access of vanity. Her correct judgment, her intuitive refinement, the extreme delicacy of her sensibilities,--these were the themes he dwelt upon, and Frank felt that they must be rare gifts indeed, when the very description of them could be so pleasurable. From what the Abbé said, so far from her marriage with the great Russian being a piece of fortune, she had but to choose her position amid the first houses of Europe. “It was true,” he added, “that the 'Midchekoff's' wealth was like royalty, and as he united to immense fortune great claims of personal merit, the alliance had everything to recommend it.” “And this is so?” cried Frank, eagerly. “The Prince is a fine fellow?” “Generous and munificent to an extent almost fabulous,” said D'Esmonde, who seemed rather to resume his own train of thought than reply to Frank's question. “The splendor of his life has already canonized a proverb.” “But his temper--his manner--his disposition?” “Like all his countrymen, he is reserved, almost cold to strangers; his intimates, however, talk of him as frankness and candor itself. Even on political themes, where Russians are usually most guarded, he gives his opinions freely and manfully, and, strange enough too, with a liberality which, though common enough in our country, must be very rare indeed in his.” “That is strange!” said Frank, thoughtfully. “Yes,” said D' Esmonde, dropping into the tone of one who insensibly poured out his inmost thoughts in soliloquizing,----“Yes, he feels, what we all do, that this state of things cannot last,--disparity of condition may become too palpable and too striking. The contrast between affluence and misery may display itself too offensively! Men may one day or other refuse to sign a renewal of the bond of servitude, and then--and then----”