"I must reveal my shame. What an abyss is the human mind! how full of contradictions! Oh! no, no; I hate this man! There is, in the obstinacy with which he has pursued his design, something infernal; and if what I experience towards him be not hatred, it is a vague fear which mingles with this hate. Yes, it is that, no doubt. And, then, if there be united with these a kind of regret at seeing a will so firm, a pertinacity so great, employed in doing ill--in injuring--calumniating...... "Had he devoted himself to noble designs, what glorious results might he not have realised! "Yes, I am alarmed when I reflect on the skill with which he formerly contrived to introduce himself to us--to render himself indispensable to our interests. With what impenetrable dissimulation did he conceal his love for me--only once referring to it; and with what indignation did I receive his avowal! "Ought I not to believe, although he assured me of the contrary, that his attentions to my aunt were serious? Could I be deceived? Have I deceived myself in this respect? "The abominable calumny of which I have been the victim has not even enlightened me as to the truth. Poor aunt! how many chagrins has she unconsciously caused me! "It was only wanting for this man to have placed his love, his passionate devotion, fittingly. No doubt he would have loved a woman whose heart was free with intense devotion; but wherefore has he loved me--me? Was I not plighted to Raphael? Had he not frequently heard me allude to our approaching union? And after a first and last avowal, he had recourse to the most infamous calumny to dishonour her to whom once, and but once only, he had spoken of love. "It seems to me that I am comforted in thus pouring out my most painful thoughts. Yes, it enables me to read my heart more closely. "Alas! I was already so wretched, had I need of any increase of sorrow's? Oh! accursed be thou who hast driven me into a marriage without love, by slaying my betrothed, whom I loved most tenderly! "Yes, I loved him with the love of infancy, which changed in advancing years to a sentiment more soft than friendship, but more tranquil than love. "What is my life now? Horrible, horrible! with every appearance of happiness, if wealth be happiness! For ever linked to a man who so often, alas! compels me to regret the fate of Raphael! "Poor Raphael, to die so young! Alas! in provoking M. de Brévannes, he yielded to a feeling of just and courageous despair; and yet his murderer, on his side, and not unreasonably, invoked the right of legitimate defence. "It is true, Raphael no longer suffers, but I suffer daily; every instant of my life is a punishment! What can I do? "Resign myself. "To rouse me from my painful apathy, it required that I should again see the man who has caused me so much misery.