“Nay, nay, my lord, that tone of bitter regret is not worthy of you, any more than the feeling which dictated it.”
“You do not know the wretchedness she has already caused me; and even now that I had dared to dream of happiness, and looked forward to obtaining in you the comfort and solace of my life, as well as a mother for my newly recovered child, this woman again crosses my path, and, like the spirit of evil, dashes the cup from my lips ere it is tasted.”
“Come, come, my lord,” said poor Clémence, striving to look cheerful, though her tears flowed fast, spite of all her efforts to restrain them, “take courage, you have a great and holy duty to perform. But just now, when impelled by a natural burst of paternal affection, you said that the future destiny of your daughter should be hap
