Maulear looked at the Marquise for a few moments, and then said: "My child, there is no true love without confidence. My love gives me sacred rights over you. Do not be afraid to confide in me. Let not even the memory of the departed restrain you. You are twenty years of age; and your life has not approached its end. I am now about to tell you what I have often intended to: your happiness is the main object of my life, and never forget that, whatever may be your name, I shall always look on you as a daughter!" Aminta threw herself into the Prince's arms and hid there her tears of gratitude and her blushes. De Maulear took his beautiful daughter-in-law on his knee, as he would have taken a child, and then lifting up Aminta's head with exquisite kindness, said: "Does he love you?" "He did before I was married," said the young woman, looking down. "And since then?" "He has never spoken of love." "He should not have done so," said the Prince; "often, though, the eyes say such things; and his, probably, are not inexpressive." Aminta did not reply. "All is clear," said the Prince; "the Count avoids us from a sentiment of delicacy which does him honor. He has no longer reason to hope, being ruined, for what, when rich, he would have given his life and fortune." "He will go," said Aminta faintly. "He will not, he shall not go. This conspiracy is, after all, only one of the phantoms ever arising before a terrified government. If the really revolutionary mind of Count Monte-Leone has involved him, I will promise to make him listen to reason, especially if you will aid me--as for this order to leave so abruptly, I hope my arm is long enough to interpose." "What then will you do?" asked Aminta, anxiously. "_Parbleu!_ I will go to the King himself--not to the ministers, but to the KING--to GOD, not to the saints. Mind, for the proverb's sake alone I apply that word to those gentry. The King is an old friend, a brother in exile. I never asked a favor of him, though he has often asked me to do so. We will see if he will refuse me." "But," said Aminta, "time is short." "Then," said the Prince, "to-morrow morning I will go to the Tuileries, and we will see what the minister will say when he hears Louis XVIII. say, _I will!_" "Think you he will say so?" "He must," said the Prince, kissing her; "for you and I say, _we will_. What a woman wills----To-morrow you shall have good news." He went away.... At that time the appearance of the Tuileries was very imposing. To the forms of the empire had succeeded the more luxurious and aristocratic ones of the restoration.