“Ah!” moaned she between her sobs, “so it is Mademoiselle de Puymandour that he wants you to marry?”
“Yes, the same, or rather her enormous wealth; but may my hand wither before it clasps hers. Do you hear me, Diana?”
She gave a sad smile and murmured, “Poor Norbert!”
The heart of the young man sank; so melancholy was the tone of her voice.
“You are very cruel,” said he. “What have I done to deserve this want of confidence?”
Diana made no reply, and Norbert, believing that he understood the reason why she refused to fly with him, said, “Is it because you have no faith in me, that you will not accompany me in my flight?”
“No; I have perfect faith in you.”
“What is it, then? Do I not offer you fortune and happiness? Tell me what it is then.”
She drew herself up, and said proudly, “Up to this time, my conscience has enabled me to hold my own against all the scandalous gossip that has been flying about, but now it says, ‘Halt, Diana de Laurebourg! You have gone far enough.’ My burden is heavy, my heart is breaking, but I must draw back now. No, Norbert; I cannot fly with you.”
She paused for a moment, as though unable to proceed, and then went on with more firmness, “Were I alone and solitary in the world, I might act differently; but I have a family, whose honor I must guard as I would my own.”