Mysteries of Paris -- Volume 03

thoughtful: a ray of hope then lighted up his face; he returned to his dau

d he one of solemn explanations." said Rudolph to Fleur-de-Marie; "I did n

oes it ref

r, what

uses of

r y

r m

o us but half your tr

yourself, my father," said

re, very unhappy. When, at the beginning of our conversation, you spoke to me of the hopes which remained to you, I understood-my heart was broken, for I

the

d, is th

to do it," replied Fleur-de-

!" cried

a is very near Gerolstein. I s

ernal, my dear child? you are only eig

ind repose and forgetfulness but in the solitude of the cloister, if y

your poor depressed and distracted spirit. And though half the happiness of my life is the forfeit, I may perhaps approve your resolut

o, Rudolph?" c

g this last determination, we must examine if there may not be other prospects for the future, more agreeable to yo

his eyes on his daughter, "What do you think of your cousin Henry?" After a

him, my po

ther," replied Fleur-de

re not deceived

king his daughter's hands in his own

entiment as soon as I discovered it in my heart-alas, at the least question from you, I sh

Henry knows your love

do not think so," cried F

u think he

I hope not-he woul

is love come, m

knowing it-you remember

ment of the Abbess of

s port

f the noble character of this relative, added yet to my first impression. From that day, I often took pleasure in recalling this portrait, and that without the least scruple, believing that it belonged to one of my cousins long since dead. Little by little I habituated myself to these gentle thoughts, knowing that it was not permitted me to love on this earth," added Fleur-de-Marie with a heart-rending exp

hing, on the contrary, po

u one day reproached me with an air of regre

hen my trouble was extreme; I endeavored to forget my first impressions, but the more I endeavored, the more they became rooted in my heart, in consequenc

ven when you had as yet seen only his po

your tenderness and that of my second mother! Did I not owe to you enough to employ all my strength, all the resources of my heart, in loving you both? Oh, believe me, among the reproaches I made myself, these last were the most painful. Finally, I saw my cousin for the first time a

you loved

tachment, his admiration, with so much eloquence

ore elevated character; there

do not praise him so much

ualities of your cousin. What I say surpri

rince Henry lavished on me the most delicate praises, followed me with such frank and pious adoration; putting, as he said, the brotherly attachment that he felt for me under the holy protection of his mother, whom he lost when he was Very young. I endeavored to merit this sweet name of sister, which he bestowed upon me, by advising my cousin respecting his future prospects, according to my weak knowledge; by interesting myself in all which related to him; by promising always to ask of you such assistance for him as you might be able to give. But often, also, what torments have I felt, how I have restrained my tears when, by chance, Prince Henry interrogated me about my infancy, my early youth! to d

his future is as sweet, as smiling, as

ou say, de

lear-sighted, to have allowed your love and that of Henry to have escaped me; at the end

s impossible; he does no

u; he loves you passiona

hea

us often. I had before always treated him like my son; I changed in no degree my manner toward him. At the end of some days, Clémence and myself no longer doubted the regard you felt for each other. If your position was painful, my poor c

father, pi

licate, as a father and a man of honor, it was incumbent on me to keep a rigorous neutrality, not to encourage the love of your cousin, but to treat him with the same affability as formerly. You have been hitherto so unhappy, my beloved child, that seeing you, so to speak, reviving under the impuls

repo

ter. Though he regards this alliance as an unhoped-for favor, he asks of me your hand f

iding her face in her hands,

; if you wish it, this happiness i

never; do

, but you quit me for a life of tears and austerity. Oh! to lose you! to lose you! Let

him! Me, d

wealthy citizens. Now, my beloved daughter, do you know why I resign myself to a separation from you? Do you know why I desire Henry to quit his title when he is out of Germany. It is because I am sure that, in the midst of a solitary happiness,

ually happy with his happiness and your own, you will no long

to be long without seeing you, every ye

e healed, when you shall have found forgetfulness in happiness, and this mome

Fleur-de-Marie, who, in spite of hersel

e, by the man whose noble and generous heart your father has extolled to you a thousand times, shall you have leisure to think of the past, and e

ars at seeing that his daughter hesitated, "adored by your husband, when you shall have the know

ng the past for this ineffable hope, "c

y of triumphant joy; "is there a father who wishes

be heard, my friend," said Clémence,

m, my second mother, and my father," replied Fleur-de-Marie, y

le emotion. "Take courage, our separation will be short; the new duties which your marriage will impose upon you will confirm your steps still more in the path of forgetfulness a

dream which was lulling her. "Mother? me!-Oh, never! I am unworthy that holy name; I should die with sham

s heaven!" cried Rudolph, s

and pure child, I, formerly the object of everybody's scorn, I profane thus the sacred name of m

, listen to

pale, and beautiful, in the ma

before marrying me Prince H

cried Rudolph. "He must k

r see me die than see me

stible fatality plunged you into the a

ng Fleur-de-Marie in her arms, "that when I call you

esteem him too much, ever to give him a hand whi

*

he "Official Gazette" of Gerolstein

s Amelia of Gerolstein. The novice was received by the most illustrious and most reverend Lord Charles Maximilian, Archbishop-Duke of Oppenheim; Lord Hannibal, Andre Montano, of the Princes of Delpha, Bishop of Ceuta in partibus inf