CHAPTER VII.
AN UNLUCKY BLOW.
The falling of a thunderbolt at his feet would have startled Norbert less than these words did.

The Duke took, or affected to take, no notice of his son's extreme agitation, and in a careless manner he continued,-- "I suppose, my son, that it is hardly necessary for me to tell you the young lady's name.

Mademoiselle Marie de Puymandour cannot fail to please you.

She is excessively pretty, tall, dark, and with a fine figure.

You saw her at Mass one day.