d invited him to dinner. Jacques accepted the
invitation, and came. Dionysia saw him, and loved him.

Now, for the first time in her life, she had a secret unknown to
Grandpapa Chandore and to her aunts; and for two years the birds and the
flowers were the only confidants of this love of hers, which grew up in
her heart, sweet like a dream, idealized by absence, and fed by memory.

For Jacques's eyes remained blind for two years.

But the day on which they were opened he felt that his fate was sealed.
Nor did he hesitate a moment; and in less than a month after that, the
Marquis de Boiscoran came down to Sauveterre, and in all form asked
Dionysia's hand for his son.

Ah! that was a heavy blow for Grandpapa Chandore.

He had, of course, often thought of the future marriage of his
grandchild; he had even at times spoken of it, and told her that he
was getting old, and should feel very much relieved when he should have
found her a good husband. But he talked of it as a distant thing, very
much as we speak of dying. M. de Boiscoran brought his true feelings
out. He shuddered at the idea of giving up Dionysia, of seeing her
prefer another man to himself, and of loving her children best of all.
He was quite inclined to throw the ambassador out of the window.

Still he checked his feelings, and replied that he could give no reply
till he had consulted his granddaughter.

Poor grandpapa! At the very first words he uttered, she exclaimed,--

"Oh, I am so happy! But I expected it."

M. de Chandore bent his head to conceal a tear which burned in his eyes.
Then he said very low,--

"Then the thing is settled."

At once, rather comforted by the joy that was sparkling in his
grandchild's eyes, he began reproaching himself for his selfishness, and
for being unhappy, when his Dionysia seemed to be so happy. Jacques had,
of course, been allowed to visit the house as a lover; and the very day
before the fire at Valpinson, after having long and carefully counted
the days absolutely required for all the purchases of the trousseau,
and all the formalities of the event, the wedding-day had been finally
fixed.

Thus Dionysia was struck down in the very height of her happiness, when
she heard, at the same time, of the terrible charges brought against M.
de Boiscoran, and of his arrest.

At first, thunderstruck, she had lain nearly ten minutes unconscious
in the arms of her aunts, who, like the grandfather, were themselves
utter