"But yet, my mother, I have known this infamy!" replied Fleur-de-Marie, in a tone of deepest grief. "Nothing can destroy these fearful recollections,--they pursue me incessantly, not as formerly, in the midst of the peaceful inhabitants of the farm, or the fallen women who were my companions in St. Lazare, but they pursue me even in this palace, filled with the elite of Germany; they pursue me even to my father's arms, even to the steps of his throne!" And Fleur-de-Marie burst into an agony of tears. Rodolph and Clemence remained silent in presence of this fearful expression of unextinguishable remorse; they wept, too, for they perceived that their consolations were vain. "Since then," continued Fleur-de-Marie, drying her tears, "I say to myself every moment in the day, with bitter shame, 'I am honoured, revered, and the most eminent and venerated persons surround me with respect and attention. In the eyes of a whole court the sister of an emperor has deigned to fasten my bandeau on my forehead, and I have lived in the mire of the Cite, familiar with thieves and murderers.' Forgive me, dearest father, but the more elevated my position, the more deeply sensitive have I been to the deep degradation into which I had fallen; and at every homage paid me I feel myself guilty of profanation, and think it sacrilege to receive such attentions, knowing what I have been; and then I say to myself, 'If God should please that the past were all known, with what deserved scorn would she be treated whom now they elevate so high! What a just and fearful punishment!'" "But, poor girl, my wife and I know the past; we are worthy of our rank, and yet we cherish you." "Because you feel for me the tenderness of a father and mother." "But remember all the good you have done since your residence here, and the excellent and holy institution you have founded for orphans and poor forsaken girls! Then, too, the affection which the worthy abbess of Ste. Hermangeld evinces towards you, ought not that to be attributed to your unfeigned piety?" "Whilst the praises of the abbess of Ste. Hermangeld refer only to my present conduct, I accept it without scruple; but when she cites my example to the noble young ladies who have taken vows in the abbey, I feel as if I were the accomplice of an infamous falsehood." After a long silence Rodolph resumed, with deep melancholy: "I see it is unavailing to persuade you! Reasoning is impotent against a conviction the more steadfast as it is derived from a noble and generous feeling. The contrast of your past and present position must be a perpetual punishment; forgive me for saying so, my beloved one!" "Forgive you! And for what, my dear father?"