"Then, dearest daughter, let me answer the question ere you have put it, by saying there is a prospect as bright and smiling awaits your acceptance, as that you propose is cheerless and gloomy." "What mean you?" "Now, then, listen to me. It was impossible for an affection as great as mine to be blinded to the mutual affection subsisting between yourself and your cousin; my penetration also quickly discovered that his passion for you amounted to idolatry; that he had but one hope, one desire on earth,--that of being loved by you. At the time I played off that little joke respecting the portrait, I had not the least expectation of Henry's visiting Gerolstein. When, however, he did come, I saw no reason for changing the manner in which I had always treated him, and I therefore invited him to visit us on the same terms of friendly relationship he had hitherto done. A very little time had elapsed ere Clemence and myself saw plainly enough the cause of his frequent visits, or the mutual delight you felt in each other's society. Then mine became a difficult task. "On the one hand, I rejoiced as a father that one so every way worthy of you should have won your affection; then on the other hand, my poor dear child, your past misfortunes forbade me to encourage the idea of uniting you to your cousin, to whom I several times spoke in a manner very different to the tone I should have adopted, had I contemplated bestowing on him your hand. "Thus placed in a position so delicate, I endeavoured to preserve a strict neutrality, discouraging Prince Henry's attentions by every means in my power, and yet manifesting towards himself the same paternal kindness with which I had always treated him; and besides, my poor girl, after a life of so much unhappiness as yours, I could not bring myself suddenly to tear away the innocent pleasure you appeared to feel in the company of your cousin. It was something to see you even temporarily happy and cheerful, and even now your acquaintance with Prince Henry may be the means of securing your future tranquillity." "Dear father, I understand you not." "Prince Paul, Henry's father, has just sent me this letter. While considering such an alliance as an honour too great to aspire to, he solicits your hand for his son, who, he states, is inspired with a passion for you." "Dearest father!" cried Fleur-de-Marie, concealing her face with her hands, "do you forget?" "I forget nothing,--not even that to-morrow you enter a convent, where, besides, being for ever lost to me, you will pass the remainder of your days in tears and austerity. If I must part with you, let it be to give you to a husband who will love you almost as tenderly as your father." "Married!--and to him, father! You cannot mean it!"