A bitter smile contracted his lips as he continued, with bitter irony:—­“Ah! hide thy suffering, old man; rally thy strength; take courage!  If thy heart is torn and bleeding,—­if despair devours thy soul,—­oh, smile, still smile!  Yes! your life has been a continual farce!  Yet, miserable abortion that thou art, what canst thou do but submit, yield without a fight, and bow thy neck to the yoke like a powerless slave?  Begone, rebellious feeling!  Be silent, and behold thy child!”

Lenora opened the door and ran to her father, her questioning eyes fixed on his with a look of hope.  All of poor De Vlierbeck’s efforts to disguise his suffering were unsuccessful, and Lenora soon read in his face that he was a prey to some overwhelming sorrow.  As he still obstinately kept silence, she began to tremble, and asked, with feverish impatience,—­

“Well, father,—­well,—­have you nothing to say to me?”

“Alas! my child,” said he, sighing, “we are not happy.  God tries us with heavy blows.  Let us bow before the will of the Almighty.”

“What do you mean? what is there to fear?” said Lenora, beside herself.  “Speak, father!  Has he refused his consent?”

“He has refused it, Lenora!”

“Oh, no! no!” cried the maiden; “it is impossible!”

“Refused it, because he possesses millions and we—­nothing!”

“It is true, then?  Gustave is hopelessly lost to me!—­lost to me forever!

“Hopelessly!” echoed the father.

A sharp cry escaped Lenora as she tottered to the table and fell on it, weeping bitterly.

De Vlierbeck arose and stood above his sobbing daughter, and, joining his uplifted hands, exclaimed, in suppliant tones,—­

“Oh, pity me, pity me, Lenora!  In that fatal interview I have suffered all the torments that could rack the heart of a parent; I have drunk the dregs of shame; I have emptied the cup of humiliation; but all, all are nothing in comparison with thy grief!  Calm yourself, child of my love; let me see the sweet face I so love to look on; let me regain my lost strength in thy holy resignation!  Lenora! my head swims; I shall die of despair!”

As he uttered these words he sank heavily into a chair, overpowered by emotion.  The sound of his fall seemed instantly to recall Lenora to herself, and, dashing the tears from her eyes, she leaned her head on his shoulder to listen and assure herself that he had not fainted.

“Never to see him more! to renounce his love forever! to lose the happiness I dreamed of!  Alas! alas!”

“Lenora!  Lenora!” exclaimed her father, entreatingly!

“Oh, beloved father,” sobbed the poor girl, “to lose Gustave forever!  The dreadful thought overwhelms me!  While I am near you I will bless God for his kindness; but my tears overpower me; oh! let me weep, let me weep, I beseech you!”

De Vlierbeck pressed his daughter more closely to his heart, and respected her affliction in silence.