lemency. But then, again, I
thought of your letter of yesterday--and my anger is all gone."

"Then the sad time of fear and suspicion is over--suspicion, that made me
doubt of your sentiments, and you of mine. Oh, yes! far removed from us
be that fatal past!" cried Adrienne de Cardoville, with deep joy..

Then, as if she had relieved her heart from the last thought of sadness,
she continued: "The future is all your own--the radiant future, without
cloud or obstacle, pure in the immensity of its horizon, and extending
beyond the reach of sight!"

It is impossible to describe the tone of enthusiastic hope which
accompanied these words. But suddenly Adrienne's features assumed an
expression of touching melancholy, and she added, in a voice of profound
emotion: "And yet--at this hour--so many unfortunate creatures suffer
pain!"

This simple touch of pity for the misfortunes of others, at the moment
when the noble maiden herself attained to the highest point of happiness,
had such an effect on Djalma, that involuntarily he fell on his knees
before Adrienne, clasped his hands together, and turned towards her his
fine countenance, with an almost daring expression. Then, hiding his face
in his hands, he bowed his head without speaking a single word. There was
a moment of deep silence. Adrienne was the first to break it, as she saw
a tear steal through the slender fingers of the prince.

"My friend! what is the matter?" she exclaimed, as with a movement rapid
as thought, she stooped forward, and taking hold of Djalma's hands, drew
them from before his face. That face was bathed in tears.

"You weep!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, so much agitated that she kept
the hands of Djalma in her own; and, unable to dry his tears, the young
Hindoo allowed them to flow like so many drops of crystal over the pale
gold of his cheeks.

"There is not in this wide world a happiness like to mine!" said the
prince, in his soft, melodious voice, and with a kind of exhaustion:
"therefore do I feel great sadness, and so it should be. You give me
heaven--and were I to give you the whole earth, it would be but a poor
return. Alas! what can man do for a divinity, but humbly bless and adore?
He can never hope to return the gifts bestowed: and this makes him
suffer--not in his pride--but in his heart!"

Djalma did not exaggerate. He said what he really felt: and the rather
hyperbolical form, familiar to Oriental nations, could alone express his
th