in his profession; if we were once married he argued, my father
would storm a little at first, but would soon give in, and make some
arrangement that would prevent his going away, in vain I entreated to be
allowed to plead our cause with my father. Louis was inexorable upon
that point, he dare not he said, and used every argument to induce me to
accede to his wishes and agree to his propositions; but when I resisted
all entreaties he was mortally offended, and got into a terrible
passion, it seems he never forgave me for thwarting him, but I was not
aware of it, for after his anger had cooled down our parting was most
kind. During my father's illness, my secret became an intolerable
burden, oh, how bitterly I suffered for deceiving so indulgent a parent,
and yet my conscience would not allow me to break my promise. I wrote to
Louis imploring him to give the desired permission, and received a very
kind letter, assuring me that my altered circumstances would make no
difference to him, that in fact the only barrier between us was now
removed, but the longed for permission was withheld, Louis did not
notice that part of my letter in anyway. Shortly after this, my poor
father died--died without ever having heard of our engagement, his
greatest pain in parting from his darling child, being the grief he felt
at leaving her so unprotected, Imagine if you can my grief and misery,"
said Isabel shedding bitter tears of agony and remorse at the
remembrance of that dreadful time, and what it must have been to witness
his anguish, as over and over again he would say "oh my child, could I
but have left you to the tender care of a beloved husband, or even could
I know that you were the promised wife of one who truly loved you,
I could die in peace, even though he were not rich in this world's
goods, but to leave you thus my darling child, to make your own way in
this wicked world is almost more than I can bear." "What good" continued
Isabel "could I expect after such a return for all dear papa's fond
indulgence and unvaried kindness. After my father's death, I received a
letter from Louis full of love and sympathy, and approving of my plans,
as it would be some time before he would be in a position to marry. We
continued to correspond until the night of the ball, at which Dr. and
Mrs. Taschereau were among the guests, then I learned for the first time
that he was faithless and unworthy. You do not know what I suffered, nor
his cruel tri