The Poor Gentleman | Page 9

farmer, "I
shall have need of you. There will be company to-morrow at Grinselhof.
Monsieur Denecker and his nephew dine here."
The farmer, perfectly stupefied by the announcement and scarcely able
to believe his own ears, looked at his master with staring eyes and
gaping mouth, and, after a moment's hesitation, stammered forth,--
"That large, rich gentleman, sir, who sits near you every Sunday at high
mass?"
"The same, John. Is there any thing surprising in it?"
"And young Monsieur Gustave, who spoke to mademoiselle in the
churchyard when church was over?"
"The same!"
"Oh, sir, they are such rich people! They have bought all the land
around Echelpoel. They have at least ten horses in the stable at their
_château_, without counting those they have in town. Their carriage is
silver from top to bottom."
"I know it; and it is exactly on that account that I desire to receive them
in a becoming manner. You must be ready; your wife and your son also.
I shall call you to-morrow morning very early. You will willingly lend
a hand to help me, won't you?"

"Certainly, certainly, sir; a word from you is enough. I am always
happy to be able to serve you in any way."
"Thank you for your kindness, John. We understand one another, my
worthy fellow; and so farewell till to-morrow."
Monsieur De Vlierbeck entered the farm-house, gave some orders to
the young man in relation to the things he had taken from the vehicle,
and, passing through the screening grove, walked on to Grinselhof.
As soon as he was out of the farmer's sight his physiognomy assumed a
more serene expression, and there was a smile on his lips as he cast his
eyes around in search of some one in the solitude of the garden At a
turn of the path his eye fell suddenly on the sleeping girl. How
beautiful she was in her calm repose! The golden twilight covered her
with its bright reflection, and threw a rosy tint on every thing about her.
Thick curls strayed in beautiful disorder over her cheeks, and snowy
flowers, shaken from the catalpa's branches by the evening breeze, had
fallen around her in profusion. She still dreamed, and the happy smile
yet rested on her features. De Vlierbeck gazed earnestly at his sleeping
child, and raised his eyes to heaven as he said, tremulously,--"Thanks,
Almighty Father! she is happy! Let my martyrdom be prolonged; but
may all my sufferings render thee compassionate for her!"
After this short and ardent ejaculation he threw himself into a chair,
leaned his arm carefully on the table, and, resting his hand on it,
remained still as a statue. For a long time he watched his sleeping child,
while his face seemed to reflect each emotion that flitted across the
delicate features of the maiden. Suddenly a modest blush overspread
her brow, and her lips began to articulate. The old gentleman watched
her narrowly, and, although she had not spoken in connected sentences,
he caught one of those stray words which often betoken what is passing
in a dreamer's mind.
"'GUSTAVE!' She dreams of Gustave. May God be propitious to us!
Ah, yes, my child," exclaimed her father, "open thy heart to hope!
Dream, dream; for who knows what is in store for us? Yet, no!--let us
not destroy these happy moments by cold reality! Sleep, sleep! let thy

soul enjoy the heavenly enchantment of love which it is awakening!"
Monsieur De Vlierbeck continued for a while his quiet observation of
the sleeper, and then, rising, passed behind her chair and imprinted a
long kiss on her forehead.
Still half-dreaming, the sleeper slowly opened her eyes; and, the
moment she perceived who had awakened her, she sprang into her
father's arms with a bound, and, hanging round his neck, overwhelmed
him with questions and kisses.
Vlierbeck gently disengaged himself from his daughter's embrace, as he
remarked, in a tone of raillery,--
"It seems altogether unnecessary, Lenora, to inquire what new beauties
you have discovered in Vondel's 'Lucifer.' You have not had time, I
take it for granted, to begin the comparison between this masterpiece of
our native tongue and Milton's 'Paradise Lost'?"
"Ah! father," murmured Lenora, "my mind is indeed strangely troubled.
I do not know what is the matter with me; I cannot even read with
attention."
"Come, Lenora, my child, don't be sad. Sit down: I have something of
importance to tell you. You do not know why I went to town to-day, do
you? It was because we are to have company to dinner to-morrow!"
Lenora gazed at her father with an earnest and questioning look.
"It is Monsieur Denecker," continued he:--"the wealthy merchant, you
know, who sits near me at church and lives at the _château_ of
Echelpoel."