I cannot read; I cannot sleep. Not alone the shamefulness of my position, but the injustice I inflicted upon my son, weighs upon my spirits. If he were with me all would be as well with me as it is possible to be. If he were here, and I could ask his forgiveness, and thus absolve him from the solemn oath I compelled him to take, I should feel strong once more, and equal to the awful crisis. In spirit now, my son, I ask your forgiveness most humbly. The sufferings I inflicted upon you are, I well know--for certain qualities in my nature are implanted in yours--irremediable; but all that a repentant father can do I will do. Forgive me, Frederick, for my blindness. I have wronged not only you, but the memory of your dear mother. It appears to me as if my mad act in allying myself with a creature so base has cast even upon her pure soul a shadow of dishonour. * * * * * _Wednesday, 2nd July._--She has been here, and is gone. Our interview was a long one, and I apply myself now to a description of what passed between us, setting down simply that which is important to the momentous issue before me. It is the only way in which I can relieve the tedium of the dull, weary hours I am condemned to pass alone. She came into the room, closely veiled, and stood with her back against the closed door. She was calm and self-possessed. I trembled so that I could scarcely stand. "Who am I?" she asked. I heard the question with amazement, not at the words, but at the joyous tone in which it was asked. I did not answer, and she threw up her veil, and looked at me with eyes and face sparkling with animation and delight. It was as though she was playing a part in a masquerade. Never had I seen her look so well. No trace of anxiety or disquietude was observable in her. She was the very picture of joyous health and beauty, an embodiment of apparent innocence and peace of mind. But in my eyes she was no longer beautiful; I saw her soul through the mask she presents to the world, and I knew that it was corrupt and vile. She advanced to me with her arms stretched forward to embrace me, but I motioned her back sternly, and she stood still and looked at me with a smile on her lips. "What!" she exclaimed. "After this long absence, to refuse to kiss me! Ah, you are trying me, I see. You have not the heart to say you do not love me!" I pointed to the door, and said: "It will be best for both of us that our interview shall not be interrupted. In such houses as this the servants have an awkward habit of sometimes opening the doors unawares." She took the hint, and locked the door.