V

"ADREA'S DIARY"

To-day I have made my entrance in the first scene of the drama of
life. To-day, therefore, I commence my memoirs. Everything before goes
for nothing!

As I have removed myself altogether from all association with
the humdrum existence which might have been mine, I am naturally
friendless for the present. So far as the other sex is concerned, I
fancy that that could be easily remedied. But no women are likely
to care about making my acquaintance, and I am glad of it. I hate
women--men, too, I think! At any rate, there will be no one of whom I
shall make a confidant, so I have chosen you, my silent friend. I gave
a guinea for you in Bond Street, and with your dainty morocco case
and binding, I think you are well worth it. At any rate, you will be
faithful so far as silence is concerned.

To-day has been an eventful one. I have made my _debut_ as a dancer,
and Paul de Vaux has been here, in this house, alone with me! That is
hard to realize, but it is so! He has altered since he used to pay
me periodical visits at the convent--and so have I, I imagine! Yet he
recognised me! How pale and stern he looked when he stood up on the
hearthrug and called me by my name! He is very handsome--handsomer now
even than on that day when he stood by, in that chamber of death, and
saw my father murdered, without lifting his hand. Ah! Paul de Vaux,
Paul de Vaux! that was an evil day for you! Did you never think that
that little brown girl, as you called her, would grow up some day; or
did you think that she would forget! Bah! What fools men are!

He remembered me! How grave he looked, and yet how tender his voice
sounded! He did not forget that he was my guardian, and I his ward.
How bewildered and anxious he was! Was I living quite alone, had I no
friends, did I think it wise to lay myself open to so much notice?

He had come close to my chair, and was leaning down, so that his head
nearly touched mine. Really, when I looked up, I thought that he was
going to take me into his arms. I looked up and laughed softly into
his face.

He said no more. I invited him to dine with me, and promised to dance
to him afterwards. I even let my hand rest for a moment upon his
shoulder, and whispered--but _n'importe_! He behaved just as I would
have had him behave! He took up his hat and walked straight out of the
room! It was rude, but it was magnificent. Ah! Paul de Vaux! you may
struggle as long as you like, but in the end