One morning an old friend called upon Madame de B., confidentially entrusted with a proposal of marriage for Charles. Mademoiselle de Thémines had suddenly become a rich heiress in the most distressing manner. Her whole family, excepting her great aunt, had perished on the scaffold in one day. This lady (having reached her eightieth year) as sole guardian of her niece, was exceedingly anxious to have her married, lest her own death should leave her without a single protector. Anais de Thémines, besides possessing the advantages of birth, wealth, and education, was beautiful as an angel. It was impossible that Madame de B, should hesitate; she spoke to her son, who (though he at first showed some reluctance at marrying so early) expressed a desire to see Mademoiselle de Thémines. The interview took place, and his reluctance vanished. Anais was formed to please him. She appeared so unconscious of her charms, and possessed modesty so unassuming and quiet, that she could not fail endearing herself to him; he was allowed to visit at her aunt's, and soon became passionately in love with her. I knew the progress of his feelings, and longed to behold this lovely creature to whom his happiness was soon to be entrusted. She came one morning to St. Germains. Charles had spoken of me to her, and I had no contemptuous scrutiny to undergo. She appeared to me an angel of goodness; I assured her that Charles would make her happy, and that his discretion was so much above his years, that she need have no apprehensions on account of his youth. She questioned me much about him, for she knew that we had been friends from infancy, and I was so delighted at having an opportunity of extolling his many virtues, that I could have talked for ever. * * * * * Some weeks passed before the marriage took place for the settlement of business, and Charles spent most part of that time at Madame de Thémines, sometimes remaining two or three days at a time in Paris. His absence pained me; I felt vexed at losing him, and vexed with myself for preferring my own happiness to his. I had never done so before. The days that he returned home were holidays for me. Then he would tell me how he had passed his time, what progress he had made in the affections of his mistress, and rejoice with me at the success he had met with, Once, he began (describing to me the manner he intended to live with her)--"I will obtain her conscience," said he, "and give her mine. All my thoughts shall be open to her, every secret impulse of heart will I tell her; in short, I wish the same mutual trust and confidence to be between us as between you and me, Ourika." The same confidence! How this pained me. I recollected that he knew not the only secret I ever had, and determined never to let him know it.