ght astonishment on Morrel. "It is M. Maximilian Morrel," said
she; "the son of that good merchant of Marseilles, whom you doubtless
recollect."

"Yes," said the old man. "He brings an irreproachable name, which
Maximilian is likely to render glorious, since at thirty years of age he
is a captain, an officer of the Legion of Honor." The old man signified
that he recollected him. "Well, grandpapa," said Valentine, kneeling
before him, and pointing to Maximilian, "I love him, and will be only
his; were I compelled to marry another, I would destroy myself."

The eyes of the paralytic expressed a multitude of tumultuous thoughts.
"You like M. Maximilian Morrel, do you not, grandpapa?" asked Valentine.

"Yes."

"And you will protect us, who are your children, against the will of my
father?"--Noirtier cast an intelligent glance at Morrel, as if to say,
"perhaps I may." Maximilian understood him.

"Mademoiselle," said he, "you have a sacred duty to fulfil in your
deceased grandmother's room, will you allow me the honor of a few
minutes' conversation with M. Noirtier?"

"That is it," said the old man's eye. Then he looked anxiously at
Valentine.

"Do you fear he will not understand?"

"Yes."

"Oh, we have so often spoken of you, that he knows exactly how I talk
to you." Then turning to Maximilian, with an adorable smile; although
shaded by sorrow,--"He knows everything I know," said she.

Valentine arose, placed a chair for Morrel, requested Barrois not
to admit any one, and having tenderly embraced her grandfather, and
sorrowfully taken leave of Morrel, she went away. To prove to Noirtier
that he was in Valentine's confidence and knew all their secrets, Morrel
took the dictionary, a pen, and some paper, and placed them all on a
table where there was a light.

"But first," said Morrel, "allow me, sir, to tell you who I am, how much
I love Mademoiselle Valentine, and what are my designs respecting her."
Noirtier made a sign that he would listen.

It was an imposing sight to witness this old man, apparently a mere
useless burden, becoming the sole protector, support, and adviser of the
lovers who were both young, beautiful, and strong. His remarkably
noble and austere expression struck Morrel, who began his story with
trembling. He related the manner in which he had become acquainted with
Valentine, and how he had loved her, and that Valentine, in her solitude
and her misfortune, had accepted the offer of his devot