Lenora was brave by nature, and her singular and solitary education had given her a latent force of character that was almost masculine. By degrees the resolution to make her father reveal his secret grew in her mind. And, although a feeling of instinctive respect made her hesitate, a restless devotion to the author of her being gradually overcame all scruples and emboldened her for the enterprise.
One day Monsieur De Vlierbeck set off very early for town. The morning wore away heavily; and, toward the afternoon, Lenora wandered wearily about the desolate house, with no companion but her sad reflections. At length she entered the apartment where her father usually studied or wrote, and, after a good deal of hesitation, in which her face and gestures displayed the anxiety of her purpose, opened the table-drawer, and saw in it, unrolled, a written document. The paleness of death overspread her countenance as she perused the paper and instantly closed the drawer. After this she left the apartment hastily, and, returning to her chamber, sat down with hands clasped on her knees and eyes fixed on the floor in a stare of wild surprise.
"Sell Grinselhof!" exclaimed she. "Sell Grinselhof! Why? Monsieur Denecker insulted my father because we were not rich enough for him. What is this secret? and what does it all mean? If it should be true that we are beggars! Oh, God! does a ray of light penetrate my mind? is this the solution of the enigma and the cause of my father's depression?"
For a long time she remained motionless in her chair, absorbed in reverie; but gradually her face brightened, her lips moved, and her eyes glistened with resolution. As she was endeavoring to fight bravely against misfortune, she suddenly heard the wheels of her father's calèche returning to Grinselhof. She ran down instantly to meet him; and as he drew up at the door she perceived the poor sufferer buried in a corner of the vehicle, apparently deprived of all consciousness; and, when he descended from the vehicle and she saw his expression distinctly, the deadly pallor that covered his haggard cheeks almost made her sink to the earth with anxiety. Indeed, she had neither heart nor strength to utter a word to him; but, standing aside in silence, she allowed the old man to enter the house and bury himself as usual in his chamber.
For some minutes she stood on the door-sill, undecided as to what she should do; but by degrees her brow and cheeks began to redden, and the light of resolution shone in her moistened eyes.
"Ought the feeling of respect to restrain me longer?" said she to herself; "shall I let my father die without an effort? No! no! I must know all! I must tear the worm from his heart; I must save him by my love!"
Without a moment's further delay, she ran rapidly through three or four chambers, and came to the apartment where her father was seated with his elbows resting on the table and his head buried in his hands. Throwing herself on her knees at his feet, and with hands raised to him in supplication,—
"Have mercy on me, father!" exclaimed she; "have mercy on me, I beseech you on my knees; tell me what it is that distresses you! I must know why it is that my father buries himself in this solitude and seems to fly even from his child!"
"Lenora! thou last and only treasure that remainest to me on earth," replied De Vlierbeck, in a broken voice, with despair in his wild gaze,—"thou hast suffered, dreadfully, my child, hast thou not? Rest thy poor head in my bosom. A terrible blow, my child, is about to fall on us!"
Lenora did not seem to pay any attention to these remarks, but, disengaging herself from her father's embrace, replied, in firm and decided tones,—