"Therefore," continued the baron, after a short pause, "it has always been my principle, that parents ought not to interfere with the affections of their children, but only to pray to God that He would lead their hearts to choose well. Thus I have left you your choice, then and now. Then you could not decide; now you have decided. I cannot conceal it from you that I cannot understand the prince, and that I wish your future husband were less grand and less rich; but, as it is, I hope God will turn it to the best. You are a good, clever girl, and I think you cannot have chosen thoughtlessly, or from mere ambition; no! no! not thoughtlessly, nor from ambition, for you are my good, clever girl!" repeated the old man, as Helen, unable to control her emotion any longer, hid her beautiful head on his bosom, and gave way to a passionate fit of weeping.
"What is the matter, girl?" he said, frightened by this sudden vehemence; and then, as if a flash of lightning had lighted up for an instant the dark places in his daughter's heart, "For God's sake, child, you have not let your eyes be dazzled by Mammon! You do not love the prince? You have not followed the voice of your heart, which warned you against the stern dark man, but the counsels of your mother? Oh, my child! my unfortunate child! My fears, then, were not groundless! But it is time yet to turn back. I will speak myself with the prince; I will speak with him at once; he will have pity on a poor old man, who is sick unto death."
And he raised himself with spasmodic efforts in his bed.
It was a terrible struggle which was raging in Helen's heart while the baron said these words. Was there really a way yet out of this horrible labyrinth, in which she had lost herself? Could the step, the fatal step, be retraced? At what price? At the price of seeing her pride humbled! Her proud betrothed was to have pity! Pity with her poor old father! Pity with herself! Never ... Never!
"No, no, no!" she cried, seizing both of her father's hands. "You are mistaken, father! I am not unhappy! I have not been dazzled and tempted! I--I love the prince--I shall love him--I will try to love him--I will----"
She could not continue; her throat was closed by a spasm; her pale lips moved, but were unable to shape the words with which she uttered her own sentence of death.
"Oh, great God!" prayed the old man, "enlighten my child's heart! Child! child! Do not let your father leave this world with such a terrible doubt on his mind! Oh, if I could but tell you all as I feel it. Ah, this pain! My God ... My ..."
The sufferer fell back on his pillow.
Helen held him in her arms.
"Papa! dear papa! I will do all you ask; for I will tell the prince--great God! what is that?"