sign to the House of
Burgundy, if my Sovereign thinks my disobedience in this matter renders
me unworthy to hold them."

"Ha! Saint George!" said the Duke, stamping furiously on the ground,
"does the fool know in what presence she is?--And to whom she speaks?"

"My lord," she replied, still undismayed, "I am before my Suzerain, and,
I trust, a just one. If you deprive me of my lands, you take away all
that your ancestors' generosity gave, and you break the only bonds which
attach us together. You gave not this poor and persecuted form, still
less the spirit which animates me.--And these it is my purpose to
dedicate to Heaven in the convent of the Ursulines, under the guidance
of this Holy Mother Abbess."

The rage and astonishment of the Duke can hardly be conceived, unless
we could estimate the surprise of a falcon against whom a dove should
ruffle its pinions in defiance.

"Will the Holy Mother receive you without an appanage?" he said in a
voice of scorn.

"If she doth her convent, in the first instance, so much wrong," said
the Lady Isabelle, "I trust there is charity enough among the noble
friends of my house to make up some support for the orphan of Croye."

"It is false!" said the Duke, "it is a base pretext to cover some secret
and unworthy passion.--My Lord of Orleans, she shall be yours, if I drag
her to the altar with my own hands!"

The Countess of Crevecoeur, a high spirited woman and confident in her
husband's merits and his favour with the Duke, could keep silent no
longer.

"My lord," she said, "your passions transport you into language utterly
unworthy.--The hand of no gentlewoman can be disposed of by force."

"And it is no part of the duty of a Christian Prince," added the Abbess,
"to thwart the wishes of a pious soul, who, broken with the cares and
persecutions of the world, is desirous to become the bride of Heaven."

"Neither can my cousin of Orleans," said Dunois, "with honour accept a
proposal to which the lady has thus publicly stated her objections."

"If I were permitted," said Orleans, on whose facile mind Isabelle's
beauty had made a deep impression, "some time to endeavour to place my
pretensions before the Countess in a more favourable light--"

"My lord," said Isabelle, whose firmness was now fully supported by
the encouragement which she received from all around, "it were to no
purpose--my mind is made up to decline this alliance, though far above
my deserts."

"Nor have