A few days later, Vallombreuse, propped up on his pillows, received a
visit from his faithful and devoted friend, the Chevalier de Vidalinc,
whom he had not been permitted to see earlier. The prince was sitting
by the bedside, affectionately watching every flitting expression on
his son's face, which was pathetically thin and pale, but handsomer
than ever; because the old haughty, fierce look had vanished, and a soft
light, that had never been in them before, shone in his beautiful eyes,
whereat his father's heart rejoiced exceedingly. Isabelle stood at
the other side of the bed, and the young duke had clasped his thin,
startlingly white fingers round her hand. As he was forbidden to speak,
save in monosyllables--because of his injured lung--he took this means
of testifying his sympathy with her, who had been the involuntary cause
of his being wounded and in danger of losing his life, and thus made her
understand that he cherished no resentments. The affectionate brother
had replaced the fiery lover, and his illness, in calming his ardent
passion, had contributed not a little to make the transition a less
difficult one than it could possibly have been otherwise. Isabelle was
now for him really and only the Comtesse de Lineuil, his dear sister.
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