pparent, by the manner of the Baron de Willading,
that he trifled with Adelheid, had it not been well known to the others
that her feelings were chiefly consulted in the choice that had just been
made.

But, notwithstanding the high glee in which the father spoke, the pleasure
and buoyancy of his manner did not communicate itself to the child as
quickly as he could wish. There was far more than virgin embarrassment in
the mien of Adelheid. Her color went and came, and her look turned from
one to the other painfully, while she struggled to speak. The Signor
Grimaldi whispered to his companions, and Roger de Blonay discreetly
withdrew, under the pretence that his services were needed at Vevey, where
active preparations were making for the Abbaye des Vignerons. The Genoese
would then have followed his example, but the baron held his arm, while he
turned an inquiring eye towards his daughter, as if commanding her to deal
more frankly with him.

"Father," said Adelheid, in a voice that shook in spite of the effort to
control her feelings, "I have something important to communicate, before
this acceptance of Herr Steinbach is a matter irrevocably determined."

"Speak freely, my child; this is a tried friend, and one entitled to know
all that concerns us, especially in this affair. Throwing aside all
pleasantry, I trust, Adelheid, that we are to have no girlish trifling
with a youth like Sigismund; to whom we owe so much, even to our lives,
and in whose behalf we should be ready to sacrifice every feeling of
prejudice, or habit--all that we possess, ay, even to our pride."

"All, father?"

"I have said all. I will not take back a letter of the word, though it
should rob me of Willading, my rank in the canton, and an ancient name to
boot. Am I not right, Gaetano? I place the happiness of the boy above all
other considerations, that of Adelheid being understood to be so
intimately blended with his. I repeat it, therefore, all."

"It would be well to hear what the young lady has to say, before we urge
this affair any farther;" said the Signor Grimaldi, who, having achieved
no conquest over himself, was not quite so exuberant in his exultation as
his friend; observing more calmly, and noting what he saw with the
clearness of a cooler-headed and more sagacious man. "I am much in error,
or thy daughter has that which is serious, to communicate."

The paternal affection of Melchior now took the alarm, and he gave an
eager atte