ew well enough the moment he saw it what it
contained, the letters and presents that Isabel had received from
himself. Yes there they were, and he would not for worlds have Natalie
see them. There they were, the letters, the trinkets, but he had
expected something more--an angry note, upbraiding him for his mean
conduct and requesting the return of her letters. Over this he would
have rejoiced, but no, here were the letters and trinkets without note
or comment, just enclosed in a blank cover, and this cool contempt
annoyed him more than the bitterest expressions of angry reproach would
have done. She had returned all that he had ever given her, well, what
else had he expected, did he think she would have kept them? No, of
course not, but then he had not thought about it, he knew now that his
revenge had had a very different effect to what he had intended, she
would cast off all further regard for him, perhaps she hated him, while
he, trusting to her sweet disposition and deep affection for himself,
had expected that she, unable to overcome her wondrous love, would pine
and grieve over her great, her irreparable loss. Ah Louis, if this was
your object you did not manage the affair skilfully. You also forgot
that by marrying another, you were taking perhaps, the only step that
could effectually prevent the object you had in view, (for this,
together with the offensive manner in which it was done, supplied her
with a motive which aided essentially to enable her to carry out her
determination to stifle all feelings of love towards him, in fact to
forget him.) He now saw the folly of the course he had adopted, she
would soon forget him altogether, perhaps find another more patient and
gentle, who could make her happier than he would have done, such
thoughts as these were madness--perhaps she might marry another, no,
he clinched his fist and vowed she should not. How had his so called
revenge recoiled upon himself, he had not been aware how madly he loved
her, until she was lost to him forever, and he almost cursed the filthy
lucre that had lured him on until it had been his ruin. For what had he
gained--he new what he had lost, the only woman that he had ever loved
or could love, but what had he gained, not the satisfaction which he had
expected, only a few thousand dollars and a pretty childish little wife
of whom he already tired.

With an angry exclamation he threw the whole packet into the fire, and
then leaning his face