t
have I ever done in my life to merit such unbounded happiness?"

"Until that time," continued the young girl in a calm and self-possessed
tone of voice, "we will conform to circumstances, and be guided by the
wishes of our friends, so long as those wishes do not tend finally to
separate us; in a word, and I repeat it, because it expresses all I wish
to convey,--we will wait."

"And I swear to make all the sacrifices which this word imposes, sir,"
said Morrel, "not only with resignation, but with cheerfulness."

"Therefore," continued Valentine, looking playfully at Maximilian, "no
more inconsiderate actions--no more rash projects; for you surely
would not wish to compromise one who from this day regards herself as
destined, honorably and happily, to bear your name?"

Morrel looked obedience to her commands. Noirtier regarded the lovers
with a look of ineffable tenderness, while Barrois, who had remained in
the room in the character of a man privileged to know everything that
passed, smiled on the youthful couple as he wiped the perspiration from
his bald forehead. "How hot you look, my good Barrois," said Valentine.

"Ah, I have been running very fast, mademoiselle, but I must do M.
Morrel the justice to say that he ran still faster." Noirtier directed
their attention to a waiter, on which was placed a decanter containing
lemonade and a glass. The decanter was nearly full, with the exception
of a little, which had been already drunk by M. Noirtier.

"Come, Barrois," said the young girl, "take some of this lemonade; I see
you are coveting a good draught of it."

"The fact is, mademoiselle," said Barrois, "I am dying with thirst, and
since you are so kind as to offer it me, I cannot say I should at all
object to drinking your health in a glass of it."

"Take some, then, and come back immediately." Barrois took away the
waiter, and hardly was he outside the door, which in his haste he forgot
to shut, than they saw him throw back his head and empty to the very
dregs the glass which Valentine had filled. Valentine and Morrel were
exchanging their adieux in the presence of Noirtier when a ring was
heard at the door-bell. It was the signal of a visit. Valentine looked
at her watch.

"It is past noon," said she, "and to-day is Saturday; I dare say it
is the doctor, grandpapa." Noirtier looked his conviction that she
was right in her supposition. "He will come in here, and M. Morrel had
better go,--do you not think s