There was a sound of footsteps and voices on the staircase, and, as they approached, Lenora thought she recognised the tones.  She bounded to the door with a sharp cry, and, closing it, leaned against the boards to prevent any one from entering.

“For God’s sake, child, what are you afraid of?” cried her father.

“GUSTAVE!  GUSTAVE!” whispered Lenora, with pale and quivering lips.  “He is there! he is there!  I hear him.  Take away that table quickly.  Of all the world he is the last who should see our misery!”

De Vlierbeck’s face grew dark, his head became erect and fierce, and his eyes flashed with their ancient fire.  Advancing silently to his daughter, he drew her from the door.  Lenora fled to a corner of the room, and covered her face, which was red with mortification.

Suddenly the door opened, and a young man rushed into the chamber with an exclamation of joy as he advanced, open-armed, toward the trembling girl, whom he would have pressed to his breast had not the hand and look of her father arrested his steps.

For a moment he stood like one stupefied, glancing from the wretched board to the miserable dress of the old man and his daughter.  The sight affected the intruder, for he covered his eyes as he exclaimed, in subdued and despairing tones, “Oh, God! has it come to this?”

But he did not allow himself to remain long under the influence either of his feelings or of her father, and, advancing anew to Lenora, seized and pressed both her hands ardently.

“Oh! look at me, Lenora!  Let me see if thy heart has preserved the memory of our love!”

Lenora’s eyes met his at once and with affection.  It was a look that completely revealed her pure and constant soul.

“Oh, happiness!” cried Gustave, enthusiastically; “thou art still my dear and tender Lenora!  Thank God, no power on earth can ever separate me again from my betrothed!  Receive, receive the kiss of our union!”

He stretched his arms toward her.  Lenora, trembling with agony and happiness, stood downcast and blushing, as if awaiting the solemn kiss; but, before Gustave could accomplish the act, De Vlierbeck was by his side, and, grasping his hand, held him motionless.

“Monsieur Denecker,” said her father, severely, “have the goodness to moderate your transports.  We are certainly glad to see you once more; but neither you nor I can forget what we are.  Respect our poverty!”

“What do you say?” cried Gustave. “What you are!  You are my friend,—­my father.  Lenora is my betrothed!  Oh heaven! why look at me so reproachfully?”

He seized the hand of Lenora again, and, drawing her toward her father, rapidly continued:—­