t she rejected the idea almost as soon as she had conceived it,
for she felt that her father would believe that the parsimonious Duke
de Champdoce would never consent to such a marriage, and that her entire
liberty would be taken from her, and that she might even be sent back to
the convent.

"I cannot stop now," she murmured, "and must be content to run all risks
to effect an object in which I am now doubly interested."

Diana and Norbert had a long conversation together on this day in a spot
which had become so dear to them both, and it was only the approach of a
peasant that recalled the girl to the sense of her rash imprudence, and
she insisted on going on her ostensible errand of charity. Norbert, as
before, escorted her, and even went so far as to offer his arm, upon
which she pressed when the road was steep or uneven.

These meetings took place daily, and after a few short minutes spent in
conversation, the young lovers would set off on a ramble. More than once
they were met by the villagers, and a little scandal began to arise.
This was very imprudent on Diana's side; but it had been a part of her
plan to permit her actions to be talked of by the tongue of scandal.
Unfortunately the end of November was approaching, and the weather
growing extremely cold. One morning, as Norbert arose from his couch, he
found that a sharp icy blast was swaying the bare branches of the trees,
and that the rain was descending in torrents. On such a day as this
he knew that it was vain to expect Diana, and, with his heart full of
sadness, he took up a book and sat himself down by the huge fire that
blazed in the great hall.

Mademoiselle de Laurebourg had, however, gone out, but it was in a
carriage, and she had driven to a cottage to see a poor woman who had
broken her leg, and who had nothing but the scanty earnings of her
daughter Francoise upon which to exist. As soon as Diana entered the
cottage she saw that something had gone wrong.

"What is the matter?" asked she.

The poor creature, with garrulous volubility, exhibited a summons which
she had just received, and said that she owed three hundred francs, and
that as she could no longer pay the interest, she had been summoned,
and that her little property would be seized, and so a finishing stroke
would be put to her troubles.

"It is the Counsellor," said she, "that rogue Daumon, who has done all
this."

The poor woman went on to say that when she went to her creditor