hapless young being, averred to be the beggar's daughter.
She placed a golden louis on the palm of the singer, saying:

"Give this to your mother, child."

CHAPTER XII

LOVE, MASTER OF HEARTS

The Count's demands brought to a head a resolve that had taken
possession of Chevalier de Vaudrey's heart and soul. Always the
picture of the sweet Norman girl he had saved from de Praille's foul
clutches was in his waking thoughts, of nights he dreamed a blessed
romance! He recked not of the Count's displeasure, sorrowed that he
must displease his Aunt as sorely. The only bar was that a vision of
the lost Louise stood, as it were, between him and his beloved
Henriette.

Now that he had come to her to speak of his proposal, the little heart
still quested for the lost sister.

"Don't you ever think of anyone but her?" he asked.

A negative shake of the golden head and ringleted curls was the
answer, though the cupid mouth and the blue eyes smiled with
tenderness. They stood very close to another, like poles of a magnet
twixt which a spark flashes.

Silently Maurice drew from his pocket a ring. 'Twas of pure gold, a
lovely and exquisite bauble, whereof the two little claws clasped a
golden heart. He handed it to Henriette, who took it with a happy
smile till she realized its meaning as betrothal.

A wave of color overspread her cheek. The heir of the de Vaudreys to
give himself to her! Pride and love mingled in her thoughts.

Yes, to throw himself away on a Commoner girl--he meant it. Flashed
the picture on her mental retina of the little solemn oath to Louise.
What he asked was impossible--for him and for her.

Henriette handed back the ring.

"Marry you--an aristocrat! Why, that would ruin you in the eyes of
_all the world_!"

He was down on his knees, pleading, agonized, distressed, looking for
some sign of relentment from the beauteous little head that seemed
rigidly to repress emotion.

"Then you d-o-n-'t l-o-v-e m-e?" he faltered at last, rising.

"No!" was the reply, in a firm but very small voice.

The broken Chevalier started slowly for the door. He turned slightly
and caught the sound of sobs.

Wheeling around, he saw her arms half stretched towards him. He
bounded back.

He was now kissing the hem of her garments, her gloves, her roses, her
fingertips, and crying extravagantly, almost shouting the words: "You
DO love me!"

Gently Henriette imparted a maiden's delicate kiss on his cheek.