sovereignty."

"First let me think of the interest of my heart--of that of my cherished
daughter; make us both happy--oh! very happy. Permit me, who but now was
without family, to say, 'My wife--my daughter;' allow this poor child--also
without family--to say, 'My father--my mother--my sister;' for you have a
daughter, who will become mine."

"Oh! my lord, to such noble words one can only answer by grateful tears,"
cried Clemence. Then, composing herself, she added, "My lord, some one
comes; it is your child."

"Oh! do not refuse me," cried Rudolph, in a supplicating voice; "in the
name of my love, say our child."

"Our child," murmured Clemence; at the same moment Murphy opened the door,
leading in Fleur-de-Marie.

The girl, descending from the carriage, had crossed an ante-chamber, filled
with footmen in full livery; a waiting-room, where valets attended; then
the ushers' saloon; and, finally, the waiting-rooms, occupied by a
chamberlain and the aides of the prince in full uniform. Let the reader
imagine the astonishment of the poor Goualeuse, who knew no other splendors
than those of the farm at Bouqueval, on traversing these princely
apartments, resplendent with gold, mirrors, and paintings.

As soon as she appeared, Lady d'Harville ran toward her, took her by the
hand, and placing her arm around her for support, she conducted her toward
the prince, who, standing near the chimney, had not been able to move.
Murphy, after having confided Fleur-de Marie to the care of Lady