emotions, which upon every
visit that he paid to Laurebourg became more powerful and resistless.
Like a true knight, who wishes that he himself should gain the love of
his lady fair, Octave addressed himself directly to Diana, and after
many attempts succeeded in finding himself alone with her, and then he
asked her if she could permit him to crave of her father, the Marquis
de Laurebourg, the honor of her hand. This appeal surprised her, for
she had been so much absorbed in her own troubles that she had not
even suspected his love for her. She was not even frightened at his
declaration, as is the patient when the surgeon informs him that he
must use the knife. She glanced at De Mussidan strangely as he put this
question to her, and after a moment's hesitation, replied that she would
give him a reply the next day. After thinking the matter over, she wrote
and dispatched the letter which Francoise had carried to Norbert. The
prisoner in the dock as he anxiously awaits the sentence of his judge,
can alone appreciate Diana's state of agonized suspense as she stood at
the end of the park at Laurebourg awaiting the return of the girl. Her
anxiety of mind lasted nearly three hours, when Francoise hurried up
breathless.

"What did the Marquis say?" asked Diana.

"He said nothing; that is, he cried out very angrily, 'Never! no,
never!'"

In order to prevent any suspicions arising in the girl's mind,
Mademoiselle de Laurebourg contrived to force a laugh, exclaiming: "Ah!
indeed, that is just what I expected."

Francoise seemed as if she had something to say on the tip of her
tongue, but Diana hurriedly dismissed her, pressing a coin into her
hand. All anxiety was now at an end; for her there was no longer any
suspense or anguish; all her struggles were now futile, and she felt
grateful to Octave for having given her his love. "Once married,"
thought she, "I shall be free, and shall be able to follow the Duke and
Duchess to Paris."

Upon her return to the Chateau, she found Octave awaiting her. His eyes
put the question that his lips did not dare to utter; and, placing her
hand in his with a gentle inclination of her head, she assented to his
prayer.

This act on her part would, she believed, free her from the past; but
she was in error. Upon hearing that his dastardly attempt at murder had
failed, the Counsellor was for the time utterly overwhelmed with terror,
but the news that he had gained from M. de Puymandour calme