ily. It was growing dark, and they
were bringing in the lamps, when the rolling of carriage-wheels was
heard on the sand in the court-yard. The count rose, turning pale.

"Here she comes!" he said. "Here is my daughter!"

It was Henrietta.

How could a young girl, usually so reserved, and naturally so timid,
make up her mind to cause such scandal? Because the most timid people
are precisely the boldest on certain occasions. Forced to abandon
their nature, they do not reason, and do not calculate, and, losing all
self-possession, rush blindly into danger, impelled by a kind of madness
resembling that of sheep when they knock their heads against the walls
of their stable.

Now, for nearly a fortnight, the count's daughter had been upset by
so many and so violent emotions, that she was no longer herself. The
insults which her father heaped upon her when he surprised her with
Daniel had unsettled her mind completely.

For Count Ville-Handry, acting under a kind of overexcitement, had that
day lost all self-control, and forgot himself so far as to treat his
daughter as no gentleman would have treated his child while in his
senses, and that in the presence of his servants!

And then, what tortures she had had to endure in the week that followed!
She had declared that she would not be present at the reading of the
marriage-contract, nor at the ceremonies of the civil marriage, nor
at church; and her father had tried to make her change her intentions.
Hence every day a new lamentable scene, as the decisive moment drew
nearer.

If the count had at least used a little discretion, if he had tried
the powers of persuasion, or sought to touch his daughter's heart by
speaking to her of herself, of her future, of her happiness, of her
peace!

But no! He never came to her room without a new insult, thinking of
nothing, as he acknowledged himself, but of sparing Miss Brandon's
feelings, and of saving her all annoyance. The consequence was, that his
threats, so far from moving Henrietta, had only served to strengthen her
in her determination.

The marriage-contract had been read and signed at six o'clock, just
before a grand dinner. At half-past five, the count had once more come
to his daughter's room. Without telling her any thing of it, he had
ordered her dressmaker to send her several magnificent dresses; and they
were lying about now, spread out upon chairs.

"Dress yourself," he said in a tone of command, "and come dow