Lenora gazed at her father with an earnest and questioning look.

“It is Monsieur Denecker,” continued he:—­“the wealthy merchant, you know, who sits near me at church and lives at the chateau of Echelpoel.”

“Oh, yes!  I remember him, father; he always speaks to me so kindly, and never fails to help me from the carriage when we go to church.”

“But your eyes ask, I see, Lenora, whether he is coming alone. Another person will accompany him, my girl!”

“Gustave!" exclaimed the maiden, involuntarily and blushing.

“Exactly!  Gustave will be here,” replied Monsieur De Vlierbeck.  “Don’t tremble on that account, Lenora; and don’t become frightened because your innocent heart may find itself opening to the dawn of new sensations.  Between us, my child, there can be no secret that my love will not discover.”

His daughter’s eyes looked inquiringly into his own, as if asking an explanation of the enigma.  But all of a sudden, as if a ray had darted unexpectedly into her soul, she threw her arms around the old man’s neck and hid her face in his bosom.

“Oh, father! beloved father,” murmured she, “your kindness is unbounded!”

For some moments the old gentleman did not put aside the affectionate caresses of his child; but by degrees his expression became gloomy; tears started into his eyes, and he said, in broken tones,—­

“Lenora, whatever may happen to us in life, thou wilt always love thy father thus, wilt thou not?”

“Always, always, father!’

“Lenora, my child,” continued he, with a sigh, “thy tender affection is my only recompense and happiness here below:  never deprive my soul of its consolation!”

The sad tone in which these words were uttered touched the maiden’s heart so deeply that she took her father’s hands, without saying a syllable, and wept in silence with her head in his bosom.

For a long time they remained thus motionless, absorbed by a feeling which was neither joy nor sorrow but seemed to acquire its power and mastery by the mingling of these opposite sentiments.

Monsieur De Vlierbeck’s expression was the first to change.  His features became severe as he bent his head downward reproachfully.  In truth, the strange words that started the tears into his daughter’s eyes had excited the reflection in his own mind that another person was, perhaps, about to share his Lenora’s love and probably to separate him from her forever.  He was ready for every sacrifice, were it even infinitely greater, provided it contributed to the happiness of his child; yet the very idea of separation caused his heart to bleed at every pore.  By degrees he stifled this selfish anxiety, and, striving to control himself, raised his daughter with a kiss.

“Come, Lenora,” said he, “be gay again!  Isn’t it a happy thing that our hearts can sometimes get into the shade after they have been too much in the sunshine?  Let us go into the house.  We have many arrangements to make in order to receive our guests becomingly.”