"No? Ah! then I doubt no longer,--you do love me!" "Love you! Oh, believe me, this marriage would be a blow even more severe to me than to you," said Paula, with emotion; "but," she added, "we must consider your poor mother, and not positively refuse to obey her; we must temporise; you must say you have re-considered your first refusal, and that you wish for time to reflect before you come to a determination so very serious; in fact, gain time." "But what then--what then?" "How do we know what the future may produce? Let us thank the destiny of the hour, the present moment--to-morrow is not ours." "But when may I write to you--see you again? What will be the end of this love that burns, devours, kills me?" "And it burns, devours, kills me also,--you do not suffer alone: is not that enough?" "But what hope have I?" "I know not. Does love for love go for nothing?" "But if I could only see you sometimes at your own house or in society?" "At my house,--oh, no! in society,--your oath forbids." "You are pitiless." "Soothe your mother, not by promises, but by delay. In a week I will write to you." "To tell me----" "You will see,--perhaps you will be more happy than you expect!" "Indeed! Oh, tell me--tell me." "Do not build any vain hopes on my words. Remember this: I will never permit you to fail in your oath,--but as I love you passionately----" "Well?" "The rest is my secret." "Oh, how cruel you are!" "Very cruel! for I wish you to write me to-morrow that your mother is in better health, as you have been able to tranquillise her mind. I shall be so happy to hear this,--for I reproach myself bitterly with her grief, as it is I who have involuntarily caused it." "I promise you; and you?" "In a week you shall know my secret. I the less regret not having received you at my own residence,--we are about, I fear, to break through our habits of solitude. M. de Hansfeld has begged me to receive several persons, amongst whom are M. and Madame de Brévannes. Do you know them?" "I meet M. de Brévannes sometimes. They say his wife is a charming creature." "Charming! and I fear for my husband's peace that he thinks so too." "What do you say?" "I believe he is deeply enamoured of Madame de Brévannes." "The prince?" "He is perfectly free in his actions, as I am in mine." "And you refuse to receive me at your hotel, when your husband----" Paula interrupted De Morville. "I refuse you, in the first place, because you have sworn never to come to my residence; and then, blamable or not, my husband's conduct ought not to have any influence over mine. There are delicacies of position which no one can better appreciate than you. In a week you shall know more." "In a week,--not earlier?" "No." "How wretched I shall be!"