Madame d'Harville, followed by Murphy, entered the cabinet. Ignorant, as we
have said, that Fleur-de-Marie was the daughter of the prince, Madame
d'Harville, in her joy at bringing back his protegee, had not thought she
would be able to present her to him without previous preparation: she had
left her in the carriage at the door, as she did not know whether the
prince was willing to make himself known to the young girl, and receive her
in his own house. But perceiving the great alteration in the looks of
Rudolph, and remarking in his eyes the traces of recent tears, Clemence
thought he had met with some misfortune more severe than the death of La
Goualeuse; thus forgetting the object of her visit, she cried, "What is the
matter with your highness?"
"Are you ignorant, madame? Ah! all hope is lost. Your haste--the interview
you have so earnestly demanded--I thought----"
"Oh! I entreat you, let us not speak of the object of my visit. In the name
of my father, whose life you saved, I have almost the right to demand from
you the cause of the affliction in which you are plunged. Your state of
dejection, your paleness, alarms me. Oh! speak, my lord; be
generous--speak--have pity on my distress."
"For what good, madame? my wound is incurable."
"These words redouble my alarm, my lord; explain yourself--Sir Walter, what
is it?"
"Well!" said Rudolph, in a hollow voice, making a violent effort to
restrain himself, "since I informed you of the death of Fleur-de-Marie, I
have learned that she was my child.
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