On the afternoon of the following day Monsieur De Vlierbeck was seated in his parlor, his head resting on his hand.

He seemed plunged in profound thought, for his eyes were fixed on vacancy and his face exhibited by turns contentment and hope, inquietude and anxiety.
Occasionally Lenora came into the apartment, and, seeming unusually restless, wandered about from spot to spot, arranging and rearranging the little fancy articles upon the tables, looking out of the window into the garden, and at last running down-stairs suddenly as if she were pursued.

No one who saw her could doubt that she was nervously anxious about something; yet her expression was one of joy and hope.

Had she been able to penetrate her father's mind and behold the various emotions that excited it, she would not perhaps have been so gay and blithesome; but poor De Vlierbeck restrained himself with his habitual care in her presence, and smiled at her impatience as if he too were confident of approaching happiness.
At length, tired of running about, Lenora seated herself by her father and fixed her clear and questioning gaze on his face.
"Don't be so excited, my good child," said he.

"We shall know nothing to-day; but we may, perhaps, to-morrow.