“Those people are implacable!” said Adrienne; “but our happiness will be stronger than their hate.”

After a moment’s silence, she resumed, with her habitual frankness:  “My dear cousin, it is impossible for me to conceal what I have at heart.  Let us talk for a few seconds of the past, which was made so painful to us, and then we will forget it forever, like an evil dream.”

“I will answer you sincerely, at the risk of injuring myself,” said the prince.

“How could you make up your mind to exhibit yourself in public with—?”

“With that young girl?” interrupted Djalma.

“Yes, cousin,” replied Mdlle. de Cardoville, and she waited for Djalma’s answer with anxious curiosity.

“A stranger to the customs of this country,” said Djalma, without any embarrassment, for he spoke the truth, “with a mind weakened with despair, and misled by the fatal counsels of a man devoted to my enemies, I believed, even as I was told, that, by displaying before you the semblance of another love, I should excite your jealousy, and thus—­”

“Enough, cousin; I understand it all,” said Adrienne hastily, interrupting Djalma in her turn, that she might spare him a painful confession.  “I too must have been blinded by despair, not to have seen through this wicked plot, especially after your rash and intrepid action.  To risk death for the sake of my bouquet!” added Adrienne, shuddering at the mere remembrance.  “But one last question,” she resumed, “though I am already sure of your answer.  Did you receive a letter that I wrote to you, on the morning of the day in which I saw you at the theatre?”

Djalma made no reply.  A dark cloud passed over his fine countenance, and, for a second, his features assumed so menacing an expression, that Adrienne was terrified at the effect produced by her words.  But this violent agitation soon passed away, and Djalma’s brow became once more calm and serene.

“I have been more merciful that I thought,” said the prince to Adrienne, who looked at him with astonishment.  “I wished to come hither worthy of you, my cousin.  I pardoned the man who, to serve my enemies, had given me all those fatal counsels.  The same person, I am sure, must have intercepted your letter.  Just now, at the memory of the evils he thus caused me, I, for a moment, regretted my clemency.  But then, again, I thought of your letter of yesterday—­and my anger is all gone.”

“Then the sad time of fear and suspicion is over—­suspicion, that made me doubt of your sentiments, and you of mine.  Oh, yes! far removed from us be that fatal past!” cried Adrienne de Cardoville, with deep joy..

Then, as if she had relieved her heart from the last thought of sadness, she continued:  “The future is all your own—­the radiant future, without cloud or obstacle, pure in the immensity of its horizon, and extending beyond the reach of sight!”

It is impossible to describe the tone of enthusiastic hope which accompanied these words.  But suddenly Adrienne’s features assumed an expression of touching melancholy, and she added, in a voice of profound emotion:  “And yet—­at this hour—­so many unfortunate creatures suffer pain!”