should have apprised her of her birth; how gently I should have prepared
her for this revelation--it was so simple, so easy. Oh! if this were the
only question, do you see," added the prince, with a bitter smile, "I
should have been composed, and not embarrassed. Throwing myself on my knees
before the idolized child, I would have said, 'You who have been until now
so cruelly treated, be at length happy--and forever happy. You are my
daughter.' But no," said Rudolph, "no, that is not it--that would have been
too hasty, too rash. Yes, I would have restrained myself and said to her,
in a calm manner, 'My child, I must tell you something that will astonish
you much. Yes; imagine that they have discovered traces of your parents;
your father lives, and your father is--I am your father.'" Here the prince
again interrupted himself. "No, no; this is also too sudden, too abrupt;
but it is not my fault that this revelation is always springing to my lips;
one must have more self-command--you comprehend, my friend, you comprehend?
To be there before your daughter, and restrain your feelings!" Then, giving
way again to despair, Rudolph cried, "But to what purpose these vain words?
I shall never speak to her again. Oh! that which is frightful--frightful to
think of, is, that I have had my daughter near me during a whole day--yes,
that day, forever accursed, on which I took her to the farm; that day when
all the treasures of her angelic mind were revealed to me in all their
purity, and nothing in my heart whispered, 'She is your daughter!'
nothing--nothing! Oh! how blind, stupid I was, not to imagine this. I was
unworthy to be a father."

"But, sir--"

"But, in truth," cried the prince, "did it not depend upon myself whether I
should ever leave her? Why did I not adopt her? I, who lament so much for
my child? Why, instead of sending this unfortunate child to Madame George,
did I not keep her with me? To-day I should only have had to extend my arms