Half pleased, half sad,—­his heart divided between joy and anxiety,—­Gustave bade farewell to Lenora’s father and returned to Echelpoel.

CHAPTER V.

On the afternoon of the following day Monsieur De Vlierbeck was seated in his parlor, his head resting on his hand.  He seemed plunged in profound thought, for his eyes were fixed on vacancy and his face exhibited by turns contentment and hope, inquietude and anxiety.

Occasionally Lenora came into the apartment, and, seeming unusually restless, wandered about from spot to spot, arranging and rearranging the little fancy articles upon the tables, looking out of the window into the garden, and at last running down-stairs suddenly as if she were pursued.  No one who saw her could doubt that she was nervously anxious about something; yet her expression was one of joy and hope.  Had she been able to penetrate her father’s mind and behold the various emotions that excited it, she would not perhaps have been so gay and blithesome; but poor De Vlierbeck restrained himself with his habitual care in her presence, and smiled at her impatience as if he too were confident of approaching happiness.

At length, tired of running about, Lenora seated herself by her father and fixed her clear and questioning gaze on his face.

“Don’t be so excited, my good child,” said he.  “We shall know nothing to-day; but we may, perhaps, to-morrow.  Moderate your joy, my daughter; if it please Heaven to decide against your hope in this matter your grief will be more easily conquered.”

“Oh, no, father!” stammered Lenora; “God will grant my prayer; I feel it in my heart.  Don’t be astonished, father, that I am full of joy, for I think I see Gustave speaking to his uncle.  I hear what he says, and Monsieur Denecker’s replies; I see him embrace Gustave and give his consent!  Who can doubt, father, that I ought to hope, when I know that Monsieur Denecker loved me and was always kind?”

“Would you be very happy, Lenora,” asked De Vlierbeck, with a smile, “if Gustave were betrothed to you?”

“Never to leave him!” cried Lenora,—­“to love him,—­to be the happiness of his life, his consolation, his joy,—­to enliven the solitude of Grinselhof by our love!—­ah! that, father, would be delight indeed; for then there would be two of us to contribute to the pleasures of your life!  Gustave would have more skill than I to chase away the grief that sometimes clouds your brow; you could walk, talk, or hunt with him; he would venerate and love you as a son and watch you with the tenderest care; his only thought on earth would be to make you happy, because he knows that your happiness is mine; and I—­I, father, will recompense him for his devotion by the gratitude of my heart, and love.  Oh, yes, dear father! we shall live together in a paradise of contentment!”