desperation.

"What would you have proposed, Maximilian, had you found me willing to
accede?"

"It is not for me to say."

"You are wrong; you must advise me what to do."

"Do you seriously ask my advice, Valentine?"

"Certainly, dear Maximilian, for if it is good, I will follow it; you
know my devotion to you."

"Valentine," said Morrel pushing aside a loose plank, "give me your hand
in token of forgiveness of my anger; my senses are confused, and during
the last hour the most extravagant thoughts have passed through my
brain. Oh, if you refuse my advice"--

"What do you advise?" said Valentine, raising her eyes to heaven and
sighing. "I am free," replied Maximilian, "and rich enough to support
you. I swear to make you my lawful wife before my lips even shall have
approached your forehead."

"You make me tremble!" said the young girl.

"Follow me," said Morrel; "I will take you to my sister, who is worthy
also to be yours. We will embark for Algiers, for England, for America,
or, if you prefer it, retire to the country and only return to Paris
when our friends have reconciled your family." Valentine shook her head.
"I feared it, Maximilian," said she; "it is the counsel of a madman, and
I should be more mad than you, did I not stop you at once with the word
'Impossible, impossible!'"

"You will then submit to what fate decrees for you without even
attempting to contend with it?" said Morrel sorrowfully. "Yes,--if I
die!"

"Well, Valentine," resumed Maximilian, "I can only say again that you
are right. Truly, it is I who am mad, and you prove to me that passion
blinds the most well-meaning. I appreciate your calm reasoning. It is
then understood that to-morrow you will be irrevocably promised to
M. Franz d'Epinay, not only by that theatrical formality invented to
heighten the effect of a comedy called the signature of the contract,
but your own will?"

"Again you drive me to despair, Maximilian," said Valentine, "again you
plunge the dagger into the wound! What would you do, tell me, if your
sister listened to such a proposition?"

"Mademoiselle," replied Morrel with a bitter smile, "I am selfish--you
have already said so--and as a selfish man I think not of what others
would do in my situation, but of what I intend doing myself. I think
only that I have known you not a whole year. From the day I first saw
you, all my hopes of happiness have been in securing your affection. One
day you acknowledged tha