d them so; for pride under unmerited misfortune always
betokens a great and elevated mind. But I shall be able to overreach
them, for I will so contrive that they shall be relieved from their
present misery without ever guessing to what channel they owe their
deliverance from misery. You think I shall find it difficult to deceive
them? So much the better. Oh, I have my own plans of action, I can
assure you, my lord; and you will see that I shall be deficient neither
in cunning nor address."

"I fully anticipate the most Machiavelian system of ruse and deep
combination," said Rodolph, smiling.

"But we must, first of all, discover where they are. Oh, how I wish
to-morrow were come! When I leave Madame de Lucenay, I shall go directly
to their old residence, make inquiries of their late neighbours, collect
all the information I can, and form my own conclusions from all I see
and hear. I should feel so proud and delighted to work out all the good
I intend to these poor ladies, without being assisted by any person; and
I shall accomplish it,--I feel sure I shall. This adventure affects me
greatly. Poor things! I seem even to feel a livelier interest in their
misfortunes when I think of my own child."

Deeply touched at this charitable warmth, Rodolph smiled with sincere
commiseration at seeing a young creature of scarcely twenty years of
age, seeking to lose, amid occupations so pure and noble, the sense of
the severe domestic afflictions which bore so heavily upon her. The eyes
of Clemence sparkled with enthusiasm, a delicate carnation tinged her
pale cheek, while the animation of her words and gestures imparted
additional beauty to her lovely countenance.

The close and silent scrutiny of Rodolph did not escape the notice of
Madame d'Harville. She blushed, looked down for a few minutes, then,
raising her eyes in sweet confusion, said:

"I see, my lord, you are amused at my girlish eagerness. But, in truth,
I am impatient to taste those sources of delight which are about to gild
an existence hitherto so replete with grief and sadness, and,
unfortunately, so useless to every one. Alas, this was not the life my
early dreams had pictured to me,--the one great passion of life I must
for ever renounce! Though young, I must live, and act, and think, as
though scores of years had passed over my head. Alas, alas!" continued
Clemence, with a sigh, "to me is denied the dear domestic joys my heart
could so fondly have prized." Af