“Are you ill, sir?” said he.

“My stomach is a singular one, Monsieur Denecker, and I suffer spasms if you even mention wine! It is a strange malady; but—­Oh, I hear your coach, Monsieur Denecker; and there it is, drawing up, I see, at the gateway.”

Of course Denecker spoke no more of wine; but, as he could not help noticing the alacrity with which De Vlierbeck hailed the prospect of his departure, he would have been deeply mortified, if not offended, had not the previous hospitality of his host satisfied him of their welcome.  He thought, perhaps, that he ought to attribute his entertainer’s conduct to some singular nervous disease which he masked under an antipathy for wine; and accordingly he took leave with a warm and friendly farewell.

“I have passed a delightful afternoon with you, Monsieur De Vlierbeck,” said he.  “We have found ourselves, I am sure, extremely happy in your and your daughter’s charming society.  It is a pleasure added to my life to have made your acquaintance; and I hope that further intimacy may assure me your friendship.  In the mean while, let me thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kind reception.”

As he finished the sentence, Lenora and Gustave joined them.

“My nephew,” continued Denecker, “will confess, as I have done, that he has spent few happier hours than those that are just gone.  I hope, Monsieur de Vlierbeck, that you and your charming daughter will return our visit and dine with us.  Yet I shall have to ask your pardon for postponing the pleasure it will afford us till I return from Frankfort, where I am summoned, the day after to-morrow, on urgent business.  It is probable I may be detained away a couple of months; but if my nephew should be allowed to visit you in my absence let me hope he will be welcome.”

De Vlierbeck reiterated his professions of delight at the new acquaintance; Lenora was silent; and Denecker moved off toward the coach.

“But the parting glass, uncle!” exclaimed Gustave.  “Let us go in for a moment and drink it.”

“No, no,” said Denecker, interrupting him tartly.  “I believe we would never get hence at all if we listened to you.  It is time to be off, and I can delay no longer.  Adieu!”

Gustave and Lenora exchanged a long and anxious look, full of regret at separation and of hope for speedy reunion.  In a moment the uncle and nephew were in the vehicle and the spirited horses in motion; but, as long as the group was in sight at the gate, a couple of white-gloved hands might have been seen waving farewells from the coach-window.

CHAPTER IV.