A few weeks after this occurrence my father took me away from the convent and I returned home. Here my time passed monotonously enough, and I wished myself back to Mount de Sales a hundred times. But an event happened which more than reconciled me to my change of life. This was nothing less than a visit from Harry Duval, a cousin who resided in Baltimore. Harry was a fine, handsome young fellow, about twenty-two years of age. The moment I saw him, I felt irresistibly attracted towards him. But I disguised my admiration with all the hypocrisy common to young girls. One day we were out walking together in the beautiful grounds surrounding my father's house. The weather was deliciously warm and the birds filled the air with their melodies. I was clad very lightly, wearing a low-necked dress with a light scarf thrown over my shoulders. We wandered for some distance, conversing on everyday topics, when my cousin proposed that we should rest ourselves on the grass under the shade of a fine, large elm tree; I consented and we sat down. Harry took my hand in his and kissed it. I blushed at this familiarity but did not withdraw it from his grasp. By degrees he grew more enterprising, and drawing me towards him, imprinted a kiss on my lips. I now made an effort to withdraw myself from his grasp but he held me tightly. "Dear Kate," said he, "I love you with all my heart and soul." "Oh Harry," I replied, "you have said that to hundreds of others." "Pray, darling--it is you alone that possesses my heart. I swear I love none but you."