of purity would not be wanting on my brow."

"But what!" exclaimed the young baron, "you say that you love me,
Isabelle, with all that true, faithful heart of yours, yet you will not
accept me! either as lover or husband?"

"You have offered me your name, de Sigognac, your noble, honoured name,
and that is enough for me. I give it back to you now, after having
cherished it for one moment in my inmost heart. For one instant I was
your wife, and I will never, never be another's. While my lips were
on yours I was saying yes to myself, and oh! I did not deserve such
happiness. For you, my beloved, it would be a sad mistake to burden
yourself with a poor little actress like me, who would always be taunted
with her theatrical career, however pure and honourable it may have
been. The cold, disdainful mien with which great ladies would be sure
to regard me would cause you keen suffering, and you could not challenge
THEM, you know, my own brave champion! You are the last of a noble race,
de Sigognac, and it is your duty to build up your fallen house. When, by
a tender glance, I induced you to quit your desolate home and follow me,
you doubtless dreamed of a love affair of the usual sort, which was but
natural; but I, looking into the future, thought of far other things.
I saw you returning, in rich attire, from the court of your gracious
sovereign, who had reinstated you in your rights, and given you an
honourable office, suitable to your exalted rank. The chateau had
resumed its ancient splendour. In fancy I tore the clinging ivy from its
crumbling walls, put the fallen stones back in their places, restored
the dilapidated roof and shattered window-panes, regilded the three
storks on your escutcheon over the great entrance door, and in the grand
old portico; then, having installed you in the renovated home of your
honoured ancestors, I retired into obscurity, stifling a sigh as I
bade you adieu, though sincerely rejoicing in your well merited good
fortune."

"And your dream shall be accomplished, my noble Isabelle; I feel sure of
it--but not altogether as you relate it to me; such an ending would be
too sad and grievous. You shall be the first, you, my own darling, with
this dear hand clasped in mine, as now, to cross the threshold of that
blessed abode, whence ruin and desolation shall have disappeared, and
have been replaced by prosperity and happiness."

"No, no, de Sigognac, it will be some great, and noble, and beautif