e Florian, and of the charming Princess de Lamballe
who had become the favorite friend of the queen. Dolores did not lose a
word of the conversation, and gave her love and homage unquestioningly
to those Philip praised even though they were strangers to her. She
admired the soundness of judgment her adopted brother displayed in his
estimate of people and of things, and the eloquence with which he
expressed his opinions.

Coursegol was present. Often by a word he completed or rectified the
statements of his young master, and Dolores loved him for the devotion
testified by his every word. As for him, notwithstanding the familiarity
which had formerly characterized his daily relations with the girl, he
felt rather intimidated by her presence, though his affection for her
was undiminished.

About eleven o'clock the Marquis rose and, addressing his son, said:

"Do you not feel the need of rest?"

"I am so happy to see you all again that I am not sensible of the
slightest fatigue," replied Philip, "and I have so many things to tell
and to ask Dolores that I am not at all sleepy."

"Ah, well, my dear children, talk at your ease. As for me, I will
retire."

And the Marquis, after tenderly embracing them, quitted the room,
followed by Coursegol. Philip and Dolores were left alone together.
There was a long silence. Seated beside an open window, Dolores, to
conceal her embarrassment, fixed her eyes upon the park and the fields
that lay quiet and peaceful in the bright moonlight of the clear and
balmy summer evening. Philip, even more agitated, paced nervously to and
fro, seeking an opportunity to utter the avowal that was eager to leave
his lips. At last, he summoned the necessary courage, and, seating
himself opposite Dolores, he said:

"You wrote me a long letter. You asked me to bring you the response.
Here it is."

Dolores looked up and perceived that he was greatly agitated. This
discovery increased her own embarrassment, and she could not find a word
to say in reply. Philip resumed:

"But, first, explain the cause of the coldness betrayed by that letter.
Why did you address me so formally? Why did you not call me your brother
as you had been accustomed to do in the past?"

"How was I to know that you would not regard me as a stranger, as an
intruder?" responded Dolores, gently.

"An intruder! You!" exclaimed Philip, springing up. "I have known the
truth for more than four years and never have I loved you so fo