"Raimond and I never spoke of his sister: it was the first constraint that subsisted between us: but Madame d'Arbigny had conjured me not to make her the theme of my conversations with her brother; and, seeing me astonished at this request, added: 'I know not if you think with me, but I can endure no third person, not even an intimate friend, to interfere with my regard for another. I love the secrecy of affection.' The explanation pleased me, and I obeyed. At this time a letter arrived from my father, recalling me to Scotland. The half year had rolled by; France was everyday more disturbed; and he deemed it unsafe for a foreigner to remain there. This pained me much, though I felt its justice. I longed to see him again, yet could not tear myself from the Count and Madame d'Arbigny without regret. I sought her instantly, showed her the letter, and, while she read it, was too absorbed by sadness to mark the impression it made. I was merely sensible that she said something to secure my delay; bade me write word that I was ill, and so _tack away_ from my father's commands. I remember that was the phrase she used. I was about to reply that my departure was fixed for the morrow, when Raimond entered the room, and, hearing the state of the case, declared, with the utmost promptitude, that I ought to obey my parent without hesitation. I was struck by this rapid decision, expecting to have been pressed to stay. I would have resisted my own reluctance, but I did not like to have my purposed triumph talked of as a matter of course. For a moment I misinterpreted my friend: he perceived it, and took my hand, saying: 'In three months I shall visit England; why, then, should I keep you here? I have my reasons,' he added, in a whisper; but his sister heard him, and said, hastily, that he was right, that no Englishman ought to be involved in the dangers of the revolution. I now know it was not to _such_ peril that the Count alluded; but he neither contradicted nor confirmed her explanation. I was going, and he did not think it necessary to tell more. 'If I could be useful to my native land, I should stay here,' he said; 'but you see it is no longer France; the principles for which I loved it are destroyed. I may regret this soil, but shall regain my country when I breathe the same air with you.'