I felt the severe justice of the reproach less in Forrester's words than in his pallid face, and the pangs he struggled to conceal. I was even secretly compelled to admit that there was a miserable truth in what he said about Mephistophiles; yet it was difficult for me to give utterance to the expression of any sympathy in the sufferings of a man who seemed to have directed his whole energies to the pursuit of an insane and unprofitable vengeance. "The portrait is not flattering," I observed. "But why do you thus put me on the rack? What has all this to do with the matter that has brought us together?" "It has every thing to do with it. The instability of your character--the certainty of remorse and disappointment, passion sated and exhausted, romance broken up, and nothing left but mutual reproaches, which will not be the less bitter because they may not find expression in words--the certainty that such is the fate to which Astræa is doomed under your protection, justifies me in laying before you those secrets of your nature which, without the help of some friendly monitor like me, you would never be able to discover." This was said in a tone of sarcasm. No man knows himself. With much modesty and humility in some things (springing, perhaps, from weakness rather than discretion or reserve), I had always overrated myself in others. I had a strong faith in my own constancy of purpose--in the steadfastness of my principles and feelings. But it was true that I was self-deceived, if Forrester and Astræa had read my character accurately. Their agreement was something wonderful. They used almost the very same words in describing the points on which my strength was likely to break down. I was beginning to fear that they were right; but I owed a grave responsibility to Astræa, and could not yet be brought to admit, even to myself, that it was possible I should fail in it. "You judge from the rest of the world, and not from me, Forrester," I replied. "But granted that it is as you say, how can that mend the business? Believe me, you are ignorant of Astræa's character and mine. No matter--let that pass. Suppose we should hereafter find our lives wearisome and joyless, may we not justly trace the cause to the malice that will not suffer us to redeem ourselves." "Is your redemption, by the strength of your own efforts, so sure, then? Neither he whom you have wronged, nor I, have any faith in your fortitude. We believe that if you were free to marry Astræa, a certain sense of justice would induce you at once to make her your wife; but we believe also, that the enchantment would perish at the altar. Attachments that begin in one form of selfishness generally end in another--even with people of the most amiable intentions." There was a scoff in his voice that made my blood tingle; but I subdued myself. "Pray, come to the point," I exclaimed, impatiently.