"Perhaps, but young people in love are impetuous, and do not reflect. We ourselves were young, and can recall the time when we were in their position." A shiver passed through Emilia at this allusion. "You made some reference to Julian about the difference in our circumstances. I intend to speak very plainly, you see, because I want the ground cleared once and for all, for all our sakes. Well, there is a difference, I admit, but it is not to be taken into account. You can give your daughter no dowry. It is not needed; I am rich enough to make the future easy for them. My son is a gentleman, your daughter is a lady. I approve of her, and I shall be proud to receive her into my family." Emilia gazed at him with swimming eyes; the fear at her heart was fading away. "She is a great favorite in our home, and we are all very fond of her. I am glad that the matter has come to an issue before Julian leaves Geneva----" "Is he going away, then?" asked Emilia, startled at the news. "For a short time only, I hope, and I shall go with him. His failing sight has caused us great anxiety, and the doctors here can do nothing for him. We intend to go to Paris, to consult an eminent specialist, and I trust he will come home quite cured. So that it is as well he has spoken to Constance. Indeed I suspect his projected departure caused him to open his heart to her earlier than he intended. Some persons are opposed to early marriages; I am not; and to judge from your looks you must be of my opinion. You married young?" "Yes," replied Emilia, faintly. Her fears revived; her undefined apprehension of evil was beginning to take shape. "Your name Braham, might belong to any nationality. Was your husband French?" "He was English." Her throat was dry; she could scarcely articulate her words. M. Bordier looked at her in concern. "You are not well." "A sudden faintness, that is all," said Emilia, in a firmer tone. She must not give way; her daughter's happiness was at stake. "It has passed off now." "English? And you are English also?" "Yes." "I remember when the good Madame Lambert brought you here, that there was some curiosity felt as to your nationality, but Madame Lambert silenced it by saying that you would prefer not to refer to the past. That was woman's talk, and it soon ceased. Your daughter bears Madame Lambert's name, Constance." "Madame Lambert wished it." "Were you and she related--excuse my interminable questions, but now that we are about to become closely connected we should know more of each other's antecedents." "We were not related." "Ah, well. While I am away I may run over to England. I should not be sorry for the opportunity of calling upon your friends there." "I have no friends there." "Some relatives surely." "None." "Well, your late husband's relatives."