He laments that he suffered me to share in Clement's education. Happy mistake! Then I found I was to be the friend and companion of man--Man the image of Divinity!--Where, then, are the boundaries placed that are to restrain my thought?--To be the companion, I must be equal--To be the friend, I must have comprehension and judgment: must be able to assist, or willing to be taught. In the little intercourse I have had with Mrs. Valmont, she also has placed before me her picture of females: a picture as absurd and much more unintelligible to me than the other. She represents beauty as the supreme good; ascribes to it the most fabulous effects of power, conquest, and dominion. She represented me to myself as entering your world; and transformed me into a being so totally without description, that I ran from her to seek again my own nature: to find the friend and companion of man. You, Caroline, are not such as either of these people describe. No: nor am I. Then shall I--but let me be content--a very short time and I shall join my Clement: shall aid his labour with my exertions. Oh, my Clement, my love, my lover, speed forward to the accomplishment of thy talk! Oh, be thy desires as bounded as my wishes! Thy Sibella covets no castles, no palaces. Seek for her but a shelter from inclemency, and take her therein to liberty, to thee! Often, Caroline, have I imagined the useless parts of that vast building converted into little cottages such as I have seen from the top of its turrets. Fancy has instantly peopled the desert. I have believed myself surrounded by an active hardy race. I have arisen to enjoy the delights of communication: when, perchance, the rushing of a silent fawn through the thicket has awakened me from my trance; has reminded me that I too was one of the solitary herd; that the castle with its moats, walls, and battlements yet stood where gloom and silence hold their court, where Mr. Valmont presides and denies Sibella his presence, and where the inexorable key is turned on that library lest she should think too often or too well. Andrew comes through the wood--he beckons--holds up a letter.--'Tis your's, Caroline. * * * * * I have pondered on the contents of your letter three days. What shall I say for myself more than you have already said for me? I feel, I confess, that in being secret I have deceived Mr. Valmont, have been guilty of vice. But how could I, tell me, Caroline; for my future benefit tell if you can, how could I devise a means by which I might have preserved my sincerity and saved my lover?--I can not. Remember it was my Clement's peace, happiness, and welfare, for which I made the sacrifice.