."

"Then--then," said Valerie, with all her old impetuosity, "let me do
something for you--let me help you in some way--you who have done
everything for me, who have been the only person kind to me on earth. Do
let me--do not refuse me. I would die to serve you."

He breathed fast as he gazed on her expressive eyes. It was a hard
struggle to him to preserve his self-control.

"No one can help me," he answered, hurriedly. "I have made my own
fate--leave me to it."

"I will not!" cried Valerie, passionately. "Do not send me away--do not
refuse me. What happiness would there be for me so great as serving
you--you to whom I owe all the pleasure I have known! Take them. Count
Waldemar--pray take them; they have often told me they are worth a good
deal, and I will thank Heaven every hour for having enabled me to aid
you ever so little." She pressed into his hands a jewel-case.

Falkenstein could not answer her. He stood looking down at her, his lips
white as death. She mistook his silence for displeasure, and laid her
hands on his arm.

"Do not be offended--do not be annoyed with me. They are my own--an old
heirloom of the L'Estranges that only came to me the other day. Take
them, Count Waldemar. Do, for Heaven's sake. I spoke passionately to you
last night; I have been unhappy ever since. If you will not take them, I
shall think you have not yet forgiven me?"

He seized her hands and drew her close to him: "Good Heavens! do you
love me like this?"

She did not answer, but she looked up at him. That look shivered to
atoms Falkenstein's resolves, and cast his pride and prudence to the
winds. He pressed her fiercely against his heart, he kissed her again
and again, bitter tears rushing to his burning eyes.

"Valerie! Valerie!" he whispered, wildly, "my fate is at its darkest.
Will you share it?"

She leaned her brow on his shoulder, trembling with hysterical joy.

"You do care for me, then?" she murmured, at last.

"Oh! thank Heaven."

In the delirium of his happiness, in the vehemence of feelings touched
to the core by sight of the intense love he had awakened, Falkenstein
poured out on her all the passion of his impetuous and reserved nature,
and in the paradise of the moment forgot every cloud that hung on his
horizon.

"Valerie!" he whispered, at length, "I have now nothing to offer you. I
can give you none of the riches, and power, and position that other men
can----"

She stopped him, putting her hand