The startled looked at her father with surprise as he uttered these words; and, as he finished, her head fell heavily on her breast and tears streamed silently from her eyes. Monsieur De Vlierbeck took her hand tenderly as he said, in words,—  
"I feared, Lenora, that I would make you sad; but you must become accustomed to the idea of our separation."
 
Lenora raised her head quickly as she replied, in a firm and manner, "What! could Gustave ever dream of our separation? To leave you at Grinselhof passing your days in while I and my husband were in the world in the midst of festivity? I should not have an instant's rest, wherever I might be; conscience would cry aloud in my heart, 'Ungrateful and insensible child, thy father is abandoned to suffering and !' Yes, I love Gustave; he is dearer to me than life itself, and I receive his hand as a from God; but if he should say to me, 'Abandon your father!'—if he left me no choice except you or him,—I would close my eyes and reject him! I should be sad; I should suffer; perhaps even I should die; but, father dear, I would die in your arms!"
 
She down her head for a moment as if oppressed by a dreadful thought; but, raising her large eyes, liquid with tears, she them on her father, as she added,—
 
"You doubt Gustave's affection for you; you imagine him capable of filling your life with sorrow,—of separating me from you! Oh, father, you do not know him; you do not know how much he respects and loves you; you do not comprehend the warmth of his generous and loving heart!"
 
De Vlierbeck bent over his child and impressed a kiss on her forehead, as he was about to utter some words of , when suddenly Lenora sprang from his arms and eagerly to the window, as if listening to approaching sounds.
 
The noise of wheels and the of horses on the road soon gave Monsieur De Vlierbeck to understand why his daughter had been so startled. His face assumed a more expression, and, hurriedly, he reached the door as Monsieur Denecker alighted from his coach.
 
The merchant seemed in exceedingly good humor; he grasped De Vlierbeck's hand, expressing his delight at seeing him once more. "How goes it with you, my old friend? It seems that , my nephew, has taken advantage of my absence." And, although De Vlierbeck him into the saloon with all the formality imaginable, Denecker slapped him familiarly on the shoulder, and continued,—
 
"Well! well! we were good friends from the beginning; and now I understand we are to be regular gossips:—at least I hope so. That scamp hasn't bad taste, I must confess. He would have to make a long search before he found a handsomer or more woman than Lenora. Look you, Monsieur De Vlierbeck, we must have a wedding frolic that people will talk of twenty years hence!"
 
By this time they had got into the saloon and taken their seats; but De Vlierbeck, nervous as he was, had considerable doubt as to the tone of Denecker's remarks, and whether he was jesting or serious.
 
"It seems," continued Denecker, assuming a graver tone, "that Gustave is madly impatient for this union, and begs me to hasten it. I have taken on the young fellow and left all the business of our house topsy-turvy to-day to arrange matters with you. He tells me you have given your consent. That was kind of you, sir. I thought a great deal of this affair during my journey, for I had observed that Cupid's arrows had gone clean through and through the boy; yet I had fears about your consent. Inequality of blood, old-fashioned ideas, might perhaps ."
 
"And so Gustave told you that I consented to his marriage with Lenora?" said the old gentleman, paying no attention to Monsieur Denecker's remarks.
 
"Did he deceive me, sir?" said Denecker, with surprise.
 
"No; but did he communicate something else to you, which ought to strike you as of equal importance?"
 
Denecker threw back his head with a laugh, as he replied,—
 
"What nonsense you made him believe! But, between us two, that passes for nothing. He tells me that Grinselhof don't belong to you and that you are poor! I hope, Monsieur De Vlierbeck, you have too good an opinion of my sense to imagine I have the least faith in such a story?"
 
A passed over the poor gentleman's frame. Denecker's good-humored familiarity had made him believe that he knew and credited all, and nevertheless responded to his nephew's hopes; but the last words he heard taught him that he must again go over the sad of his misfortunes.
 
"Monsieur Denecker," said he, "do not entertain the least doubt, I beg you, in regard to what I am about to say. I am willing instantly to consent that my daughter shall become your nephew's wife; but I solemnly declare that I am poor,—frightfully poor!"
 
"Come, come!" cried the merchant; "we knew long, long ago that you were fond of your money; but when you marry your only child you must open your heart and your purse, my dear sir, and portion her according to your means. They say—pardon me for repeating it—that you are a ; but what a shame it would be to let your only daughter leave your house unprovided for!"
 
Poor De Vlierbeck on his chair as Denecker poured his incredulous jokes. "For God's sake, sir," cried he, "spare me these bitter remarks. I declare, on the word of a gentleman, that I possess nothing in the world!"
 
"Well!" cried the merchant, taking no of his remarks, and with a mocking smile, "come; let us the matter out on the table. You suppose, perhaps, that I have come here to ask some great sacrifice of you: but no, De Vlierbeck, thank God, I have no occasion to be so close in my calculations. Yet a marriage is a thing to which there are always two parties, and it is just that each should bring something into the common stock."
 
"Oh, God! oh, God!" muttered the poor gentleman, as he his hands convulsively.
 
"I propose to give my nephew one hundred thousand francs," continued Denecker; "and if he wants to continue in business my credit will be worth as much more to him. I have no wish that Lenora's portion shall equal his. Your high birth, and especially your character, will make up what is wanting in her fortune; but what say you to the half,—fifty thousand francs? You will consent to that, or I am much mistaken. What say you? Is it a bargain?"
 
Pale and trembling, De Vlierbeck sat to his chair; but at last, in a low, voice,—
 
"Monsieur Denecker," said he, "this conversation kills me. I beg you to stop this . I repeat that I possess nothing; and, since you force me to speak before you apprize me of your own intentions, know that Grinselhof and its dependencies are mortgaged beyond their value! It is useless to inform you of the origin of these debts. Let it suffice to repeat that I tell the truth; and I beg you, without going further, now that you are informed of the state of my affairs, to declare what are your designs as to your nephew's marriage."
 
Although this declaration was made with that energy which ought to have satisfied Denecker of its truth, it nevertheless failed to convince him. A degree of surprise displayed itself on the merchant's face; but he continued his observations in the same incredulous tone:—
 
"Pardon me, De Vlierbeck, but it is impossible to believe you. I did not think you were so hard in a bargain. Yet be it so: every man has his weakness; one is too miserly, another too . Now, for my part, I confess that I am extremely anxious to spare Gustave the anxiety of delay. Give your daughter twenty-five thousand francs, with the understanding that the amount of her portion is to remain a secret; for I don't want to be laughed at. Twenty-five thousand francs!—you cannot say it is too much;—in fact, it is a trifle that will hardly pay for their furniture. Be reasonable, my good sir, and let us shake hands on it!"
 
De Vlierbeck said nothing; but, rising from the table, opened a closet with a trembling hand, and, taking from it a package of papers, threw them on the table.
 
"There!" said he; "read; convince yourself."
 
Denecker took up the papers and began to examine them. As he went on, the expression of his face gradually changed, and at times he raised his head and looked upward, as if in deep thought. After he had been engaged for some time in this disagreeable task, De Vlierbeck recommenced the conversation in a tone of cutting irony:—
 
"Ah! you would not believe me, sir. Well, let your determination be founded on those papers alone. It is right you should know every thing; for I have never again to be tortured. Besides the evidences of debt which are before you, I owe a bill of exchange for four thousand francs, which I cannot pay! You see now, Monsieur Denecker, that I am worse than poor, for I have debts!"
 
"! it is but too true," said the stupefied merchant; "you have indeed nothing! I see by these documents that my is also yours; and, although I to him of your fortune, he left me unadvised, or, I should rather say, in error."
 
De Vlierbeck breathed more freely, for he felt as if a rock had fallen from his breast. His face resumed its ordinary calmness; and, seating himself, he continued:—
 
"Now, sir, if you have no longer any reason to doubt my poverty, let me ask what are your intentions."
 
"My intentions?" replied the merchant; "my intentions are that we shall remain as good friends as we were before; but, as to the marriage, that of course falls to the ground. We will speak no more about it. What were your calculations, Monsieur De Vlierbeck? I think I am just beginning to see a little clearly into this matter! You imagined, I suppose, that you would make a good business out of it and sell your merchandise as high as possible!"
 
"Sir," exclaimed De Vlierbeck, bounding from his chair in rage, "speak respectfully of my daughter! Poor or rich, do not dare to forget who she is!"
 
"Don't get angry! don't get angry! Monsieur De Vlierbeck. I have no desire to insult you. Far from it. Had your enterprise succeeded I would probably have admired you; but against finesse always makes a bad game! Permit me to ask, since you are so on the point of honor, if you have acted a very honorable part in courting my nephew and allowing his passion to absorb him?"
 
De Vlierbeck bowed his head to the blush that his cheeks; nor did he awake from his painful till the merchant recalled him by the single word,—
 
"Well?"
 
"Ah!" De Vlierbeck, "have mercy on me! Love for my child, probably, led me astray. God endowed her with all the gifts that can a woman. I hoped that her beauty, the purity of her soul, the nobility of her blood, were treasures quite as precious as gold!"
 
"That is to say, for a gentleman, perhaps; but not for so common a person as a merchant," interrupted Monsieur Denecker, with a .
 
"Don't reproach me with having courted your nephew," continued De Vlierbeck. "That is a word that wounds me deeply; for it is unjust. Their was reciprocal and in every way unstudied. I thanked God daily in my prayers that he had cast in our path a savior for my child:—yes, a savior, I say; for Gustave is an honorable youth, who would have made her happy not so much by money as by his noble and generous character. Is it then so great a crime for a father who has unfortunately become poor to hope that his child should escape want?"
 
"Certainly not," replied the merchant; "but every thing is in success; and in that respect, Monsieur De Vlierbeck, your enterprise has been unfortunate. I am a man who examines his goods twice before he buys, and it is difficult to pass apples on me for lemons!"
 
This heartless, trafficking slang tortured the unfortunate bankrupt to such a degree that he arose from his seat in a passion and began to pace the apartment.
 
"You have no consideration for my misfortunes, sir," said he. "You pretend that I designed deceiving you; but was it you who discovered my poverty? Are you not free to act as you please, after the disclosures that I have voluntarily given you? And let me remark, sir, that if I listen to your reproaches—if I even acknowledge my fault—the sense of manhood is not dead in my soul. You talk of 'merchandise' and 'goods,' as if you came here to buy something! You to my Lenora, do you? All your wealth, sir, could not purchase her! and, if love is not powerful enough in your eyes to the inequality between us, know that I am a De Vlierbeck, and that name, even in poverty, weighs more than all your money!"
 
During this explosion his face with indignation and his eyes shot forth their rays upon the merchant, who, alarmed by the loud words and animated gestures of De Vlierbeck, regarded him with an air of stupefaction from the other side of the apartment.
 
"Good God, sir," said he at last, "there is no need of so much violence and loud talk! Each of us where he is; each keeps what he has, and the affair is at an end. I have but one request to make of you, and it is that you will never again receive my nephew,—or else—"
 
"Or else?" interrupted De Vlierbeck, ; "do you dare to threaten me?" But, restraining himself almost instantly, he continued, with comparative calmness, "Enough! Shall I call Monsieur Denecker's carriage?"
 
"If you please," replied the merchant. "We cannot do business together, it seems; but that is no reason why we should become enemies."
 
"Well! well! we will stop short of that, sir. But this conversation annoys me; it must end!" And, so saying, he led Monsieur Denecker to the door and bade him farewell abruptly. Be Vlierbeck returned to the , fell into his chair and covered his brow with both hands, as a heavy burst from his breast, which heaved with almost emotion. For a long time he remained silent and motionless; but soon his hands fell heavily on his knees, a deathly paleness overspread his face, and the room whirled around the heart-broken man.
 
Suddenly he heard footsteps in the above, and, rousing himself by a strong effort, "Oh, God! my poor child!" cried he; "my poor Lenora! She comes! my punishment is not yet complete! I must break the heart of my own child; I must tear from it all its hopes, out its dream, it up with grief! Oh that I could escape this dreadful disclosure! Alas! What to say to her? how to explain it?"
 
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 thy soul,—oh, smile, still smile! Yes! your life has been a continual ! Yet, that thou art, what canst thou do but submit, yield without a fight, and bow thy neck to the like a powerless slave? Begone, 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 to some overwhelming sorrow. As he still 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 ."
 
"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 to the table and fell on it, weeping bitterly.
 
De Vlierbeck arose and stood above his daughter, and, joining his uplifted hands, exclaimed, in tones,—
 
"Oh, pity me, pity me, Lenora! In that fatal interview I have suffered all the that could rack the heart of a parent; I have drunk the dregs of shame; I have emptied the cup of ; 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 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 his love forever! to lose the happiness I dreamed of! Alas! alas!"
 
"Lenora! Lenora!" exclaimed her father, !
 
"Oh, beloved father," 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 you!"
 
De Vlierbeck pressed his daughter more closely to his heart, and respected her affliction in silence.
 
The stillness of death throughout the apartment, while they remained locked in each other's arms until the very excess of grief relaxed their embrace and opened their hearts to consolation.