I
prayed her to forgive me for the wrong I have done her; and she
may, for she is gentle and good - but when, when shall I be able
to forgive myself?"
The sharp pain in her voice jarred on Sir Norman's ear and heart;
and, to get rid of its dreary echo, he hurriedly asked:
"You say you bear the same name. May I ask what name that is?"
"It is one, Sir Norman Kingsley, before which your own ancient
title pales. We are Montmorencis, and in our veins runs the
proudest blood in France."
"Then Leoline is French and of noble birth?" said Sir Norman,
with a thrill of pleasure. "I loved her for herself alone, and
would have wedded her had she been the child of a beggar; but I
rejoice to hear this nevertheless. Her father, then, bore a
title?"
"Her father was the Marquis de Montmorenci. but Leoline's mother
and mine were not the same - had they been, the lives of all four
might have been very different; but it is too late to lament that
now. My mother had no gentle blood in her veins, as Leoline's
had, for she was but a fisherman's daughter, torn from her home,
and married by force. Neither did she love my father
notwithstanding his youth, rank, and passionate love for her, for
she was betrothed to another bourgeois, like herself.
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