em with a white, mysterious light. There
were no stars visible, but the whole vault of heaven was filled with a
dim lustre, which quietly penetrated everything in this serene night.
Slowly they walked along on the borders of the Chevrotte, which crossed
the park; but it was no longer the rapid rivulet rushing over a pebbly
descent--it was a quiet, languid brook, gliding along through clumps
of trees. Under this mass of luminous vapour, between the bushes which
seemed to bathe and float therein, it was like an Elysian stream which
unfolded itself before them.

Angelique soon resumed her gay chattering.

"I am so proud and so happy to be here on your arm."

Felicien, touched by such artless, frank simplicity, listened with
delight as she talked unrestrainedly, concealing nothing, but telling
all her inmost thoughts, as she opened her heart to him. Why should she
even think of keeping anything back? She had never harmed anyone, so she
had only good things to say.

"Ah, my dear child, it is I who ought to be exceedingly grateful to you,
inasmuch as you are willing to love me a little in so sweet a way. Tell
me once more how much you love me. Tell me exactly what you thought when
you found out at last who I really was."

But with a pretty, impatient movement she interrupted him.

"No, no; let us talk of you, only of you. Am I really of any
consequence? At all events, what matters it who I am or what I think!
For the moment you are the only one of importance."

And keeping as near him as possible, going more slowly along the sides
of the enchanted river, she questioned him incessantly, wishing to learn
everything about him, of his childhood, his youth, and the twenty years
he had passed away from his father. "I already know that your mother
died when you were an infant, and that you grew up under the care of an
uncle who is a clergyman. I also know that Monseigneur refused to see
you again."

Then Felicien answered, speaking in a very low tone, with a voice that
seemed as if it came from the far-away past.

"Yes, my father idolised my mother, and it seemed to him as if I were
guilty, since my birth had cost her her life. My uncle brought me up
in entire ignorance of my family, harshly too, as if I had been a poor
child confided to his care. I had no idea of my true position until very
recently. It is scarcely two years, in fact, since it was revealed to
me. But I was not at all surprised in hearing the truth; it see