for
reflection; but it is equally true that after an examination of my heart
I cannot consent to look upon him as other than a brother. I shall never
be his wife; and if I have postponed the announcement of my decision, it
was only because I dislike to pain him by destroying the hopes to which
he still seemed to cling."

"What! he loves you and you will not marry him?" cried Antoinette,
amazed at such an avowal.

"I shall not marry him," replied Dolores. "And now will you listen to my
confession? On seeing you arrive at the chateau, I said to myself: 'Here
is one who will be a suitable wife for Philip; and if my refusal renders
him unhappy, the love of Antionette will console him!'"

"You thought that!" exclaimed Mademoiselle de Mirandol, throwing her
arms around her friend's neck. "And I have so cruelly misjudged you!
Dolores, can you ever forgive me?"

A brave smile, accompanied by a kiss, was the response of Dolores; then
she added:

"I not only forgive you, but I will do my best to insure your
happiness. Philip shall love you."

"Alas!" said Antoinette, "how can he love me when his heart is full of
you, when his eyes follow you unceasingly? You are unconsciously a most
formidable rival, for Philip will never love me while you are by my side
and while he can compare me with you."

"I will go away if necessary."

"What, leave your home! Do you think I would consent to that? Never!"
cried Antoinette.

"But I can return to it the very day your happiness is assured. When you
are Philip's wife you will go to Paris with him, and I can then return
to my place beside the Marquis."

"Dolores! How good you are, and how much I love you!" exclaimed
Mademoiselle de Mirandol, clasping her friend in her arms.

The words of Dolores had reassured her, had revived her hopes and dried
her tears. When left alone, Dolores, exhausted by the ordeal through
which she had just passed, could at first form no plans for the future.
She comprehended but one thing--she was still beloved. Philip's
faithfulness and the intensity of the love which had just been revealed
to her rendered the sacrifice still more difficult. It seemed to her she
would never have strength to accomplish it.

"It must be done," she said to herself, finally.

And shaking off her weakness, she went in search of the Marquis. They
had a long conversation together. Dolores told him the whole truth. It
was through her that the Marquis learned that she was loved