handed to her, not without many groans over this treachery, a letter of
which the address made Mademoiselle de Watteville shiver and redden and
turn pale again as she read the address:

To Madame la Duchesse d'Argaiolo
(nee Princesse Soderini)
At Belgirate,
Lago Maggiore, Italy.

In her eyes this direction blazed as the words _Mene_, _Tekel_,
_Upharsin_, did in the eyes of Belshazzar. After concealing the
letter, Rosalie went downstairs to accompany her mother to Madame
de Chavoncourt's; and as long as the endless evening lasted, she was
tormented by remorse and scruples. She had already felt shame at having
violated the secrecy of Albert's letter to Leopold; she had several
times asked herself whether, if he knew of her crime, infamous inasmuch
as it necessarily goes unpunished, the high-minded Albert could esteem
her. Her conscience answered an uncompromising "No."

She had expiated her sin by self-imposed penances; she fasted, she
mortified herself by remaining on her knees, her arms outstretched for
hours, and repeating prayers all the time. She had compelled Mariette
to similar sets of repentance; her passion was mingled with genuine
asceticism, and was all the more dangerous.

"Shall I read that letter, shall I not?" she asked herself, while
listening to the Chavoncourt girls. One was sixteen, the other seventeen
and a half. Rosalie looked upon her two friends as mere children because
they were not secretly in love.--"If I read it," she finally decided,
after hesitating for an hour between Yes and No, "it shall, at any rate,
be the last. Since I have gone so far as to see what he wrote to his
friend, why should I not know what he says to _her_? If it is a horrible
crime, is it not a proof of love? Oh, Albert! am I not your wife?"

When Rosalie was in bed she opened the letter, dated from day to day, so
as to give the Duchess a faithful picture of Albert's life and feelings.

"25th.

"My dear Soul, all is well. To my other conquests I have just
added an invaluable one: I have done a service to one of the most
influential men who work the elections. Like the critics, who make
other men's reputations but can never make their own, he makes
deputies though he never can become one. The worthy man wanted to
show his gratitude without loosening his purse-strings by saying
to me, 'Would you care to sit in the Chamber? I can get you