Mauprat
that it certainly exists. . . . Edmée, I order you to kiss me."
"Let go, Bernard!" she cried; "you are breaking my arm. Look, you have scraped it against the bars."
"Why have you intrenched yourself against me?" I said, putting my lips to the little scratch I had made on her arm. "Ah, woe is me! Confound the bars! Edmée, if you would only bend your head down I should be able to kiss you . . . kiss you as my sister. Edmée, what are you afraid of?"
"My good Bernard," she replied, "in the world in which I live one does not kiss even a sister, and nowhere does one kiss in secret. I will kiss you every day before my father, if you like; but never here."
"You will never kiss me!" I cried, relapsing into my usual passion. "What of your promise? What of my rights?"
"If we marry," she said, in an embarrassed tone, "when you have received the education I implore you to receive, . . ."
"Death of my life! Is this a jest? Is there any question of marriage between us? None at all. I don't want your fortune, as I have told you."
"My fortune and yours are one," she replied. "Bernard, between such near relations as we are, mine and thine are words without meaning. I should never suspect you of being mercenary. I know that you love me, that you will work to give me proof of this, and that a day will come when your love will no longer make me fear, because I shall be able to accept it in the face of heaven and earth."
"If that is your idea," I replied, completely drawn away from my wild passion by the new turn she was giv-
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