The same evening I received a second letter from my father, urging me to return. The next morning I took leave of the grand duke. He told me my cousin was unwell, but that he would make my adieux; he then embraced me tenderly, renewed his promises of assistance, and added that, whenever I had leave of absence, nothing would give him greater pleasure than to see me at Gerolstein. Happily, on my arrival, I found my father better; still confined to his bed, and very weak, it is true, but out of danger. Now that you know all, Maximilian, tell me, what can I do? Just as I finished this letter, my door opened, and, to my great surprise, my father, whom I believed to be in bed, entered; he saw the letter on the table. "To whom are you writing so long a letter?" said he, smiling. "To Maximilian, father." "Oh," said he, with an expression of affectionate reproach, "he has all your confidence! He is very happy!" He pronounced these last words in so sorrowful a tone that I held out the letter to him, almost without reflection, saying: "Read it, father." My friend, he has read all! After having remained musing some time he said to me: "Henry, I shall write and inform the grand duke of all that passed during your stay at Gerolstein." "Father, I entreat you not!" "Is what you have written to Maximilian scrupulously true?" "Yes." "Do you love your cousin?" "I adore her; but--" My father interrupted me. "Then, in that case, I shall write to the grand duke and demand her hand for you." "But, father, such a demand will be madness on my part!" "It is true; but still, in making this demand, I shall acquaint the prince with my reasons for making it. He has received you with the greatest kindness, and it would be unworthy of me to deceive him. He will be touched at the frankness of my demand, and, though he refuse it, as he certainly will, he will yet know that, should you ever again visit Gerolstein, you cannot be on the same familiar terms with the princess." You know that, although so tenderly attached to me, my father is inflexible in whatever concerns his duty; judge, then, of my fears, of my anxiety. I hastily terminate this long letter, but I will soon write again. Sympathise with me, for I fear I shall go mad if the fever that preys on me does not soon abate. Adieu, adieu! Ever yours, HENRY D'H.-O. We will now conduct the reader to the palace of Gerolstein, inhabited by Fleur-de-Marie since her return from France. CHAPTER II. THE PRINCESS AMELIE.