Delapine possessed that extraordinary magnetic power which attracts certain people with a force that defies all reason to explain. Shakespeare expounds it in immortal language in Romeo and Juliet. Goethe observed it and gave it a name "Wahlverwandschaft," or elective affinity. We see it turning up in the most unexpected places; in the palace, the cottage, the prison, nay even on the scaffold. Myth and lore teem with it. History is ennobled by it. It is the same spirit which knit the souls of David and Jonathan, Damon and Pythias, Dante and Beatrice, Hermann and Dorothea, Catarina and Camoens. This intense affection is the exact opposite of that passion which is popularly called love. The former has nothing to do with sex, the latter is merely a sexual impulse. The former is the most unselfish thing in the world, the latter is entirely selfish. The former is purely spiritual, the latter of the earth, earthy. True love remains when everything else has perished, the latter dies, or has wings and flies away. "Tout ce que touche l'amour est sauvé de la mort."[6] It was the supreme development of this spiritual power which we call love in its purest and highest sense, which led St. Paul to express himself in that exquisite ode to charity, in the First Epistle to the Corinthians. It is the fruit of this spirit which has produced the martyrs, the heroes, and the golden deeds of this and every age. * * * * * The next day after the remarkable conversation between the General and Payot, Renée was busy writing in her boudoir, when she heard a knock at the door. A servant entered bearing a note which ran as follows:-- My dear Renée, I should be very much obliged if you would come and see me at my house. I have some important news for you. I shall expect you at five o'clock. Your affectionate father, Alexandre. Renée turned the letter over to see whether it contained any news on the other side. "I wonder what my father wants me for in such a hurry. Did he leave any message?" she enquired of the servant. "No, madame. He merely told me to deliver this note, and to let him know if the time would be convenient." "Tell my father I shall be with him at five o'clock this evening, and let the coachman know that he is to be here punctually at a quarter to the hour, as my father cannot bear to be kept waiting." The maid bowed and retired, wondering in her mind what could have given rise to her icy reply. "Mademoiselle is generally so sweet to everyone," she said to herself. "I never saw her so nervous and reserved before, I wonder what can have happened. However, it is no business of mine." And she went downstairs to discuss the affair with the cook. Poor Renée trembled all over, and a deep sigh escaped her as soon as she was alone.