CHAPTER XI.
MARRIAGE BELLS; FUNERAL KNELLS.
Three days of hard work had completed all the arrangements necessary for the marriage of Norbert and Mademoiselle de Puymandour.

He had been presented to the lady, and neither had received a favorable impression of the other.

At the very first glance each one felt that inevitable repugnance which the lapse of years can never efface.

While dreading the anger of her obdurate father, Marie had at one time thought of confiding the secret of her attachment to George de Croisenois to Norbert, for she had the idea that if she told him that her heart was another's, he might withdraw his pretensions to her hand; but several times, when the opportunity occurred, fear restrained her tongue, and she let the propitious moment pass away.

Had she done so, Norbert would at once have eagerly grasped at a pretext for absolving himself from a promise which he had made mentally of obeying in all things a father who now, alas! had no means of enforcing his commands.
Each day he paid his visit to Puymandour as an accepted suitor, bearing a large bouquet with him, which he regularly presented to his betrothed upon his entrance into the drawing-room, which she accepted with a painful flush rising to her cheek.