vanringham served. never was any one more blithe than the lean prince de gâtinais. the latest gossip of versailles was delivered, with discreet emendations; he laughed gayly; and he ate with an appetite. there was a blight among the cattle hereabouts? how deplorable! witchcraft, beyond doubt. and louis passed as a piano-tuner?—because there were no pianos in manneville. excellent! he had always given louis credit for a surpassing cleverness; now it was demonstrated. in fine, the prince de gâtinais became so jovial that nelchen was quite at ease, and louis de soyecourt became vaguely alarmed. he knew his father, and for the prince to yield thus facilely was incredible. still, his father had seen nelchen, had talked with nelchen….

now the prince rose. "fresh glasses, vanringham," he ordered; and then: "i give you a toast. through desire of love and happiness, you young people have stolen a march on me. eh, i am not sgarnarelle of the comedy! therefore, i drink cheerfully to love and happiness, i consider louis is not in the right, but i know that he is wise, my daughter, as concerns his soul's health, in clinging to you rather than to a tinsel crown. of fate i have demanded—like sgarnarelle of the comedy,—prosaic equity and common-sense; of fate he has in turn demanded happiness; and fate will at her convenience decide between us. meantime i drink to love and happiness, since i, too, remember. i know better than to argue with louis, you observe, my nelchen; we de soyecourts are not lightly severed from any notion we may have taken up. in consequence i drink to your love and happiness!"

they drank. "to your love, my son," said the prince de gâtinais,—"to the true love of a de soyecourt." and afterward he laughingly drank: "to your happiness, my daughter,—to your eternal happiness."

nelchen sipped. the two men stood with drained glasses. now on a sudden the

prince de gâtinais groaned and clutched his breast.

"i was always a glutton," he said, hoarsely. "i should have been more moderate—i am faint—"

"salts are the best thing in the world," said nelchen, with fine readiness. she was half-way up the stairs. "a moment, monseigneur,—a moment, and i fetch salts." nelchen thorn had disappeared into her room.