necessity of
building up your father's family. (The Duke was listening. If you knew,
Renee, what flattery lies for him in these words.) I have watched you
during the whole winter, poking your little nose into all that goes
on, forming very sensible opinions about men and the present state of
society in France. And you have picked out the one Spaniard capable of
giving you the splendid position of a woman who reigns supreme in her
own house. My little girl, you treated him exactly as Tullia treats your
brother."

"What lessons they give in my sister's convent!" exclaimed my father.

A glance at my father cut him short at once; then, turning to the
Duchess, I said:

"Madame, I love my future husband, Felipe de Soria, with all the
strength of my soul. Although this love sprang up without my knowledge,
and though I fought it stoutly when it first made itself felt, I swear
to you that I never gave way to it till I had recognized in the Baron de
Macumer a character worthy of mine, a heart of which the delicacy, the
generosity, the devotion, and the temper are suited to my own."

"But, my dear," she began, interrupting me, "he is as ugly as..."

"As anything you like," I retorted quickly, "but I love his ugliness."

"If you love him, Armande," said my father, "and have the strength to
master your love, you must not risk your happiness. Now, happiness in
marriage depends largely on the first days--"

"Days only?" interrupted my mother. Then, with a glance at my father,
she continued, "You had better leave us, my dear, to have our talk
together."

"You are to be married, dear child," the Duchess then began in a low
voice, "in three days. It becomes my duty, therefore, without silly
whimpering, which would be unfitting our rank in life, to give you the
serious advice which every mother owes to her daughter. You are marrying
a man whom you love, and there is no reason why I should pity you or
myself. I have only known you for a year; and if this period has been
long enough for me to learn to love you, it is hardly sufficient to
justify floods of tears at the idea of losing you. Your mental gifts
are even more remarkable than those of your person; you have gratified
maternal pride, and have shown yourself a sweet and loving daughter. I,
in my turn, can promise you that you will always find a staunch friend
in your mother. You smile? Alas! it too often happens that a mother who
has lived on excellent terms with her daughte