"And so," Diane resumed, "while you were fighting, I was pining away. Man acts, and woman waits,--such is destiny. But it is sometimes much harder to wait than to act. After the first year of my loneliness, the death of the Duc de Castro left me a widow, and the king sent me to pass my period of mourning at the convent of the Filles-Dieu. But the tranquil and peaceful life which we led at the convent suited my nature much better than the everlasting intriguing and excitement of the court; so when my mourning was at an end, I sought and obtained the king's leave to remain at the convent. At least, they loved me there,--good Sister Monique above all, who reminded me of Aloyse. I tell you her name, Gabriel, so that you may love her too. And then, not only did all the sisters love me, but I could still dream, Gabriel; I had the time to do it and the right. I was free; and who was the central figure of all my dreams, of the past as well as of the future? Dear friend, you can guess, can you not?" Gabriel, reassured and enraptured, answered only by a look of passionate affection. Luckily the comedy had become very engrossing. The braggart was being well scoffed at; and the Guise and Montmorency factions were howling themselves hoarse with delight. The lovers might as well have been alone in a desert. "Five tranquil and hopeful years passed away," continued Diane. "I had had only one misfortune, in the death of Enguerrand, my foster-father. But a second one was not long in coming. The king recalled me to court, and informed me that I was the destined bride of François de Montmorency. I resisted this time, Gabriel, for I was no longer a child, who did not know what she was doing. I resisted. Then my father went on his knees to me, and pointed out to me how deeply this marriage concerned the well-being of the realm. You had forgotten me, no doubt. It was the king who said that, Gabriel. And then where were you, and who were you? In short, the king persisted so, and begged me so appealingly--it was yesterday, yes, only yesterday--that I promised what he wished, Gabriel, but only on condition that, in the first place, my sacrifice should be delayed for three months; and in the second place, I should find out what had become of you." "But you did promise?" said Gabriel, turning pale. "I did, but I had not then seen you, dear; and I had no idea that the very same day your unlooked-for appearance was to stir again in my heart both joyful and sad emotions as soon as I recognized you. Ah, Gabriel, handsomer and prouder than of old, but still the same! I knew all at once that my promise to the king was of no effect, and this marriage impossible; that my life belongs to you, and that, if you still loved me, I would love you forever. Well, now, don't you agree that I am no longer in debt to you, and that your life has no reproach to make to mine?" "Oh, you are an angel, Diane! And all that I have done to deserve your love is nothing."