his imprudence, and scolded him for risking his precious health so
recklessly.

This nobleman, forty years old, and enjoying all that heart could
desire, was unmarried. And yet he had not lacked opportunities to remedy
the evil. There was not a good mother for twenty miles around who did
not covet this prize for her daughter,--thirty thousand dollars a year,
and a great man.

He had only to appear at a ball in the provincial towns, and he was the
hero. Mothers and daughters kept their sweetest smiles for him; and kind
welcomes were offered on all sides. But all these manoeuvres had been
fruitless; he had escaped from all snares, and resisted the most cunning
devices.

Why was he so much opposed to marriage? His friends found the
explanation in a certain person, half housekeeper, half companion, who
lived in the castle, and was very pretty and very designing. But there
are malicious tongues everywhere.

The next year, however, an event occurred which was calculated to give
some ground to these idle, gossiping tales. One fine morning in the
month of July, 1847, the lady died suddenly of apoplexy. Six weeks
later, a report began to spread that Count Ville-Handry was going to be
married.

The report was well founded. The count did marry. The fact could not
be doubted any longer, when the banns were read, and the announcement
appeared in the official journal. And whom do you think he married?
The daughter of a poor widow, the Baroness Rupert, who lived in great