At the mild and gentle tone of entreaty in which this was said I felt deeply moved with compassion; but the young lady made no reply. In a minute or two the count, who kept his watchful eyes upon her, went on-- "Odile, you refuse to make your father a happy man? I only ask for a faint hope. I fix no time. I won't limit your choice. We will go to court. There you will have a hundred opportunities of marrying with distinction and with honour. Who would not be proud to win my daughter's hand? You shall be perfectly free to decide for yourself." He paused. There is nothing more painful to a stranger than these family quarrels. There are such contending interests, so many private motives, at work, that mere modesty should make it our duty to place ourselves out of hearing of such discussions. I felt pained, and would gladly have retired. But the circumstances of the case forbade this. "My dear father," said Odile, as if to evade any further discussion, "you will get better. Heaven will not take you from those who love you. If you but knew the fervour with which I pray for you!" "That is not an answer," said the count drily. "What objection can you make to my proposal? Is it not fair and natural? Am I to be deprived of the consolations vouchsafed to the neediest and most wretched? You know I have acted towards you openly and frankly." "You have, my father." "Then give me your reason for your refusal." "My resolution is formed--I have consecrated myself to God." So much firmness in so frail a being made me tremble. She stood like the sculptured Madonna in Hugh's tower, calm and immovable, however weak in appearance. The eyes of the count kindled with an ominous fire. I tried to make the young countess understand by signs how gladly I would hear her give the least hope, and calm his rising passion; but she seemed not to see me. "So," he cried in a smothered tone, as if he were strangling--"so you will look on and see your father perish? A word would restore him to life, and you refuse to speak that one word?" "Life is not in the hand of man, for it is God's gift; my word can be of no avail." "Those are nothing but pious maxims," answered the count scornfully, "to release you from your plain duty. But has not God said, 'Honour thy father and thy mother?'" "I do honour you," she replied gently. "But it is my duty not to marry." I could hear the grinding and gnashing of the man's teeth. He lay apparently calm, but presently turned abruptly and cried-- "Leave me; the sight of you is offensive to me!" And addressing me as I stood by agitated with conflicting feelings-- "Doctor," he cried with a savage grin, "have you any violent malignant poison about you to give me--something that will destroy me like a thunderbolt? It would be a mercy to poison me like a dog, rather than let me suffer as I am doing." His features writhed convulsively, his colour became livid. Odile rose and advanced to the door.