with her whose icy lips had already imprinted on mine their last sad kiss.  My heart bled.  Oh, God! how wretched—­how wretched—­were those parting hours!  My beloved wife lay there before me as if already a corpse, while the tears yet trickled down her hollow cheeks and she strove to utter your name with her expiring breath.  Kneeling beside her, I implored God’s mercy for her passing hour, and kissed away the sweat of agony that stood upon her brow.  Suddenly I thought I perceived an effort to speak, and, bending my ear to her lips, she called me by name, and said, ’It is over, my love, it is over; farewell!  It has not pleased the Almighty to assuage my dying hour, and I go with the conviction that my child will suffer want and wretchedness on earth!’

“I know not what my love inspired me to say in that solemn moment; but I called God to witness that you should escape suffering, and that your life should be happy!  A heavenly smile illuminated her eyes, and she believed my promise.  With an effort, she lifted her thin hands once more round my neck and drew my lips to hers.  But soon those wasted arms fell heavily on the bed;—­my Margaret was gone;—­thy mother was no more!”

De Vlierbeck’s head fell on his breast.  Lenora’s bosom heaved convulsively as she took his hand without uttering a word; and, for a long time, nothing was heard in that sad confessional but the sobs of the maiden and the sighs of her heart-broken father.

“What I have yet to say,” continued the poor gentleman, “is not so painful as what I have already told you:  it concerns only myself.  Perhaps it would be better if I said nothing about it; but I need a friend who possesses all my confidence and can sympathize with me thoroughly in all I have undergone for the last ten years.

“Listen, then, Lenora.  Your mother was no more; she was gone;—­she who was my last staff in life!  I remained at Grinselhof alone with you, my child, and with my promise,—­a promise made to God and to the dead!  What should I do to fulfil it?  Quit my hereditary estate? wander away seeking my fortune in foreign lands, and work for our mutual support?  That would not do, for it would have devoted you at once to the chances of a wretched uncertainty.  I could not think of such a course with any degree of satisfaction; nor was it till after long and anxious reflection that a ray of hope seemed to promise us both a happy future.

“I resolved to disguise our poverty more carefully than ever, and to devote my time to the most elaborate cultivation of your mind.  God made you beautiful in face and person, Lenora; but your father was anxious to initiate you into the mysteries of science and art, and, while he endowed you with a knowledge of the world, to make you virtuous, pious, and modest.  I desired to make you an accomplished woman, and I hoped that the nobility of your blood, the charms of your beauty, the treasures of your heart and intellect,