"I undertake to provide for her," said Fleur-de-Marie; "since she repents, she is worthy of compassion; her remorse must be more bitter in proportion as it is sincere." "I hear the grand duke," said the lady in waiting, without remarking Fleur-de-Marie's agitation; and, as she spoke, Rodolph entered, holding a large bouquet of roses in his hand. At the sight of the prince the countess retired, and scarcely had she left the apartment than Fleur-de-Marie threw herself into her father's arms, and leant her head on his shoulder. "Good morning, love," said Rodolph, pressing her to his heart. "See what beautiful roses; I never saw finer ones." And the prince made a slight motion as if to disengage himself from her and look at her, when, seeing her weeping, he threw down the bouquet, and, taking her hands, cried: "You are weeping! What is the matter?" "Nothing, dear father," said Fleur-de-Marie, striving to smile. "My child," replied Rodolph, "you are concealing something from me; tell me, I entreat you, what thus distresses you. Never mind the bouquet." "Oh, you know how fond I am of roses; I always was! Do you recollect," added she, "my poor little rose-tree? I have preserved the pieces of it so carefully!" At this terrible allusion, Rodolph cried: "Unhappy child! Is it possible that, in the midst of all the splendour that surrounds you, you think of the past? Alas! I hoped my tenderness had made you forget it." "Forgive me, dear father; I did not mean what I said. I grieve you." "I grieve, my child, because I know how painful it is for you thus to ponder over the past." "Dear father, it is the first time since I have been here." "The first time you have mentioned it, but not the first time you have thought of it; I have for a long time noticed your sadness, and was unable to account for it. My position was so delicate, though I never told you anything, I thought of you constantly. When I contracted my marriage, I thought it would increase your happiness. I did not venture to hope you would quite forget the past; but I hoped that, cherished and supported by the amiable woman whom I had chosen for my wife, you would look upon the past as amply atoned for by your sufferings. No matter what faults you had committed, they have been a thousand times expiated by the good you have done since you have been here." "Father!" "Oh, let me tell you all, since a providential chance has brought about this conversation I at once desired and dreaded! I would, to secure your happiness, have sacrificed my affection for Madame d'Harville and my friendship for Murphy, had I thought they recalled the past to you." "Oh, their presence, when they know what I was, and yet love me so tenderly, seems a proof of pardon and oblivion to me! I should have been miserable if for my sake you had renounced Madame d'Harville's hand." "Oh, you know not what sacrifice Clemence herself would have made, for she was aware of the full extent of my duties to you!"