Victor came, at first occasionally, then every day. Only a few weeks elapsed before I felt that I loved him. His companionship was so delightful; he had so much delicacy in little things; he was so frank, so devoted to all that is beautiful and good! Did he love me in return? No one could have told, for he was as timid as a young girl. But this timidity was surmounted when my feast-day arrived. He came in blushing with extreme embarrassment—poor dear friend! I can still see him—holding a bouquet in his left hand, which he concealed behind him, while with the other he presented my mother with an open paper. She took it, glanced at it, and, after reading a few words, said: “But this is not addressed to me. Here, Agnes, these stanzas are for you, my child! And I see a bouquet!” Victor presented it to me in an agitated manner. I myself was so confused that I longed to run away to hide my embarrassment. I concealed it as well as I could behind the sheet on which the stanzas were written, and read them in a low tone. They gracefully thanked my mother for all her kindness to him, and ended with some wishes for me—wishes that were ardent and touching. In a tremulous tone I expressed my gratitude with a sincerity which was quite natural. Our embarrassment was not of long continuance. It soon passed off, and we spent the evening in delightful conversation. One would have thought we had always lived together, and formed but one family. The next morning, when I returned from giving my lessons, what was my astonishment to find Victor with my mother! “Here she is to decide the question,” exclaimed the latter joyfully. “M. Victor loves you, and wishes to know if you will be his wife.” “Mother,” I replied, “must I be separated from you?” “Less than ever,” cried Victor. My delightful dream was realized! I was to be united to the man I loved with all my heart—whom I esteemed without any alloy! And this without being obliged to separate from her of whom I was the sole reliance. I extended my hand to Victor, and threw myself into my mother’s arms, thanking her as well as I could, but in accents broken by tears.... A month after, we were married, and happy—as happy, I believe, as people can be here below. CHAPTER IV. SAD PRESENTIMENTS. Thenceforth began a life so sweet that I am unable to describe it. Victor and I lived in the most delightful harmony. Our love for each other increased daily. We had but one heart and one soul. Our very tastes accorded. Oh! how charming and happy is the wedded life of two Christian souls! What mutual sympathy! How they divine each other’s thoughts! How readily they make the concessions at times so necessary, for the best matched people in this world do not always agree! A life more simple than ours cannot be imagined, and yet it was so sweet!