sted my life in the vain hope of seeing you again.
You would be ashamed of me if you knew in what a weak, frivolous, idle
manner, I have passed my days, while you were working so unceasingly,
and with such grand results. I shall never learn to make good use of my
hours except under your guidance. Long before I reached my majority I
looked forward gladly to the time when I should be a free agent and
could share my _fortune_ with you. My aunt knows that I communicated my
intention to her before you left the Chateau de Gramont. And now,
Madeleine, my own best Madeleine,--you will let the dream of my life
become a reality,--will you not? Say yes, I implore you!"

Bertha had spoken with such genuine warmth and hearty earnestness that a
colder nature than Madeleine's must have been melted. She folded the
generous girl tenderly and silently in her arms, and, after a pause,
which the countenance of her aunt made her aware that the proud lady was
on the eve of breaking, answered, sadly,--

"It was worth suffering all I endured, Bertha, to have your friendship
tested through this fiery ordeal, and to know that your heart cannot be
divided by circumstances from mine. But your too liberal offer I cannot
accept; the path I have marked out I must pursue until I reach the goal
which I am nearing. An incompleteness in the execution of my deliberate
plans would render me more miserable than I am to-day in being cast off
by my own family."

"Do not speak such cruel words," returned Bertha. "They do not cast you
off; that is, _I_ do not, and never will; and I am sure"--

She turned to look at Maurice, who had stood silent through the whole
scene, leaning upon the mantel-piece, his head still resting on his
hand, and his eyes fixed upon Madeleine. His mind was too full of
conflicting emotions for him to speak; above all other images rose that
of the being whom Madeleine had declared she loved. Did she love him
still? Was he here? Did he know her condition? Was M. de Bois, whom she
had entrusted with her secret,--M. de Bois, who had protected and aided
her,--the object of her preference? Maurice could not answer these
torturing questions, and the happiness of once more beholding the one
whom he had so long fruitlessly sought, made him feel as though he were
passing through a strange, wild dream, which, but for _one doubt_, would
have been full of ecstasy.

When Bertha appealed to him by her look, he could no longer remain
silent.

"Y