hes by the evening breeze,
had fallen around her in profusion. She still dreamed, and the happy
smile yet rested on her features. De Vlierbeck gazed earnestly at his
sleeping child, and raised his eyes to heaven as he said,
tremulously,--"Thanks, Almighty Father! she is happy! Let my martyrdom
be prolonged; but may all my sufferings render thee compassionate for
her!"

After this short and ardent ejaculation he threw himself into a chair,
leaned his arm carefully on the table, and, resting his hand on it,
remained still as a statue. For a long time he watched his sleeping
child, while his face seemed to reflect each emotion that flitted across
the delicate features of the maiden. Suddenly a modest blush overspread
her brow, and her lips began to articulate. The old gentleman watched
her narrowly, and, although she had not spoken in connected sentences,
he caught one of those stray words which often betoken what is passing
in a dreamer's mind.

"'GUSTAVE!' She dreams of Gustave. May God be propitious to us! Ah, yes,
my child," exclaimed her father, "open thy heart to hope! Dream, dream;
for who knows what is in store for us? Yet, no!--let us not destroy
these happy moments by cold reality! Sleep, sleep! let thy soul enjoy
the heavenly enchantment of love which it is awakening!"

Monsieur De Vlierbeck continued for a while his quiet observation of the
sleeper, and then, rising, passed behind her chair and imprinted a long
kiss on her forehead.

Still half-dreaming, the sleeper slowly opened her eyes; and, the moment
she perceived who had awakened her, she sprang into her father's arms
with a bound, and, hanging round his neck, overwhelmed him with
questions and kisses.

Vlierbeck gently disengaged himself from his daughter's embrace, as he
remarked, in a tone of raillery,--

"It seems altogether unnecessary, Lenora, to inquire what new beauties
you have discovered in Vondel's 'Lucifer.' You have not had time, I take
it for granted, to begin the comparison between this masterpiece of our
native tongue and Milton's 'Paradise Lost'?"

"Ah! father," murmured Lenora, "my mind is indeed strangely troubled. I
do not know what is the matter with me; I cannot even read with
attention."

"Come, Lenora, my child, don't be sad. Sit down: I have something of
importance to tell you. You do not know why I went to town to-day, do
you? It was because we are to have company to dinner to-morrow!"

Lenora gazed at her father with