As M. d'Harville uttered these last words, he seized the hand of his wife, and covered it with passionate kisses; while Clemence, much grieved at the mistake her husband had fallen into, could not avoid withdrawing her hand with a mixture of terror and disgust. And the expression of her countenance so plainly bespoke her feelings, that M. d'Harville saw at once the fearful error he had committed. The blow fell with redoubled force after the tender visions he had so lately conjured up. A look of intense agony replaced the bright exultation of his countenance exhibited a little while since, when Madame d'Harville, eagerly extending her hand towards him, said, in an agitated tone: "Albert, receive my solemn promise to be unto you as the most tender and affectionate sister,--but nothing more. Forgive me, I beseech you, if, inadvertently, my words have inspired you with hopes which can never be realised." "Never?" exclaimed M. d'Harville, fixing on his wife a look of despairing entreaty. "Never!" answered she. The single word, with the tone in which it was spoken, proved but too well the irrevocable decision Clemence had formed. Brought back, by the influence of Rodolph, to all her nobleness of character, Madame d'Harville had firmly resolved to bestow on her husband every kind and affectionate attention; but to love him she felt utterly out of her power; and to this immutable resolution she was driven by a power more forcible than either fear, contempt, or even dislike,--it was a species of repugnance almost amounting to horror. After a painful silence of some duration, M. d'Harville passed his hand across his moist eyelids and said, in a voice of bitterness: "Let me entreat your pardon for the unintentional mistake I have made. Oh, refuse not to forgive me for having ventured to believe that happiness could exist for me!" And again a long pause ensued, broken at last by D'Harville's vehemently exclaiming, "What a wretch am I!" "Albert," said Clemence, gently, "for worlds would I not reproach you; yet is my promise of being unto you the most loving and affectionate of sisters unworthy any estimation? You will receive from the tender cares of devoted friendship more solid happiness than love could afford. Look forward to brighter days. Hitherto you have found me almost indifferent to your sorrows; you shall henceforward find me all zeal and solicitude to alleviate them, and eager to share with you every grief or cause of suffering, whether of body or of mind." At this moment a servant, throwing open the folding doors, announced: "His Highness the Grand Duke of Gerolstein." M. d'Harville started; then, by a powerful effort, recovering his self-command, he advanced to meet his visitor.