"If I were a lover now," said the Duchess smiling, "I should say something about their not being half as bright as your eyes, Clémence. But words vary in their value so much, that what would be very smart and pleasant from a young man, is altogether worthless on the lips of an old woman. Let me see you before you go, Count. It is not fair that saucy girl should carry you off altogether." "Now, now, Albert," said Clémence, as soon as the Duchess was gone, "tell me before we are interrupted again." The Count took up the tale then with his last day's sojourn in Brittany, and went on to detail minutely every thing that had occurred since his arrival in the capital; and, as he told her, her cheek grew somewhat paler till, in the end, she exclaimed, "It is all as bad as it can be. You will never change your faith, Albert." "Could you love me, Clémence," he asked, "if I did?" She put her hand before her eyes for a moment, then placed one of them in his, and replied, "I should love you ever, Albert, with a woman's love, unchangeable and fixed. But I could not esteem you, as I would fain esteem him that I must love." "So thought I," replied the Count, "so judged I of my Clémence; and all that now remains to be thought of is, how is this to end, and what is to be our conduct to make the end as happy to ourselves as may be?" "Alas!" replied Clémence, "I can answer neither question. The probability is that all must end badly, that your determination not to yield your religion to any inducements must soon be known; for depend upon it, Albert, they will press you on the subject more closely every day; and you are not made to conceal what you feel. The greater the expectations of your conversion have been, the more terrible will be the anger that your adherence to your own faith will produce; and depend upon it, the Prince de Marsillac takes a wrong view of the question; for it matters not whether this affair have passed away, or be revived against you,--power never yet wanted a pretext to draw the sword of persecution. Neither, Albert, can my change of faith be long concealed. I cannot insult God by the mockery of faith in things, regarding which my mind was long doubtful, but which I am now well assured, and thoroughly convinced, are false. In this you are in a better situation than myself, for you can but be accused of holding fast to the faith that you have ever professed: me they will accuse of falling into heresy with my eyes open. Perhaps they will add that I have done so for your love." "Then, dear Clémence," he replied, "the only path for us is the path of flight, speedy and rapid flight. I have already secured for us competence in another land; wealth I cannot secure, but competence is surely all that either you or I require."