This chateau, no longer her prison, had become her home, and she was treated by all with the respect and consideration due to the daughter of its master.

From what had seemed to be her ruin had arisen her good fortune, and a destiny radiant, unhoped-for, and beyond her wildest flights of fancy.

Yet, surrounded as she was by everything to make her happy and content, Isabelle was far from feeling so--she was astonished at herself for being sad and listless, instead of joyous and exultant--but the thought of de Sigognac, so infinitely dear to her, so far more precious than any other earthly blessing, weighed upon her heart, and the separation from him was a sorrow for which nothing could console her.

Yet, now that their relative positions were so changed, might not a great happiness be in store for her?
Did not this very change bring her nearer in reality to that true, brave, faithful, and devoted lover, though for the moment they were parted?
As a poor nameless actress she had refused to accept his offered hand, lest such an alliance should be disadvantageous to him and stand in the way of his advancement, but now--how joyfully would she give herself to him.

The daughter of a great and powerful prince would be a fitting wife for the Baron de Sigognac.