ierbeck reiterated his professions of delight at the new
acquaintance; Lenora was silent; and Denecker moved off toward the
coach.

"But the parting glass, uncle!" exclaimed Gustave. "Let us go in for a
moment and drink it."

"No, no," said Denecker, interrupting him tartly. "I believe we would
never get hence at all if we listened to you. It is time to be off, and
I can delay no longer. Adieu!"

Gustave and Lenora exchanged a long and anxious look, full of regret at
separation and of hope for speedy reunion. In a moment the uncle and
nephew were in the vehicle and the spirited horses in motion; but, as
long as the group was in sight at the gate, a couple of white-gloved
hands might have been seen waving farewells from the coach-window.

CHAPTER IV.

A few days after the departure of his uncle, Gustave paid a visit to
Grinselhof. He was received by Monsieur De Vlierbeck and his daughter
with their usual kindness, passed the greater part of an afternoon with
them, and went home at nightfall to the _chateau_ of Echelpoel full of
delightful recollections and hopes. Either from a fear of disturbing the
reserved habits of the old gentleman, or from a sense of politeness,
Gustave did not at first repeat his visits too frequently; but after a
couple of weeks the extreme cordiality of Vlierbeck dispelled all his
scruples. The ardent youth no longer resisted an impulse that drew him
toward the bewitching girl, nor did he allow a single day to roll by
without passing the afternoon at Grinselhof. The happy hours flew
rapidly on the wings of love. He strolled with Lenora through the shady
walks of the old garden, listened to her father's observations on
science and art, drank in the delicious notes of his loved one's voice
as it was breathed forth in song, or, seated beneath the flowery and
spreading catalpa, dreamed the dream of happiness that was in store for
him with her who was probably soon to become his betrothed.

If the noble and beautiful face of the maiden had won his eye and
enlisted his feelings the moment he first beheld her in the village
churchyard, _now_, that he had become familiar with her character, his
love grew so ardently absorbing that the world seemed sad and dead if
she were not present to shed the light of her joyous spirit upon every
thing around him. Neither religion nor poetry could conjure up an angel
more fascinating than his beloved. Indeed, though God had endowed her
person with all t