dying woman, and unable to believe in the imminence of her end. It would appear that the nearness of death confers on the sufferers the gift of second-sight and of prophecy. Did the Dowager of Kehlmark have a glimpse of the scabrous future in store for her grandson? Did she fear to ask Blandine to associate her destiny irrevocably with Henry's? At all events, she never gave expression to her supreme desire. With a smile full of unspeakable adjuration, she contented herself with pressing their joined hands together, as though performing a sacramental act, and passed away, grieving not at death, but at having to leave her children.
By her will she left to Blandine a sufficiently large sum to ensure her independence and to permit her to set up a house of her own. But, even if she had not promised it to the deeply venerated dead, the young woman would have remained for life with Henry de Kehlmark.
When, some months after the grandmother's death, Henry more and more disgusted with the banal and conventional world, announced to Blandine his intention of establishing himself at Escal-Vigor, far
