lar
education; but his tastes were decidedly intellectual, and the charm
of his intercourse with Adrienne was in no slight degree enhanced by
the discovery that, on all subjects with which they were mutually
acquainted, she was fully competent to enter with equal interest.

Absence and lengthened separation are generally allowed to be great
tests of love, or, more properly speaking, of its truth. In Walter's
case, they hardly acted as such, for distance had proved to him but a
_lunette d'approche_, bringing him acquainted with those rare qualities
in his fair mistress which had been imperceptible during their personal
intercourse. With what impatience, knowing her as he now did, did he
anticipate the hour of their union! But it was with something like a
feeling of disappointment that he remarked in her letters a degree of
uneasiness on that tender subject, to which (as the period of separation
drew nearer to a close) he was fain to allude more frequently and
fondly. One other shade of alloy had crossed at intervals his pleasure
in their correspondence. Many kind inquiries had he made for la petite
Madelaine, and many affectionate messages had he sent her. But they were
either wholly unnoticed, or answered in phrase the most formal and
laconic,--

"Mlle. du Resnel was well, obliged to Monsieur Walter for his polite
inquiries.--Desired her compliments."

It was in vain that Walter ventured a half-sportive message in
reply to this ceremonious return for his frank and affectionate
remembrances--that, in playful mockery, he requested Adrienne to obtain
for him "_Mademoiselle du Resnel's_ forgiveness for his temerity in
still designating her by the familiar title of _La Petite Madelaine_."
The reply was, if possible, more brief and chilling--so unlike (he could
not but remark) to that he might reasonably have expected from his
grateful and warm-hearted little friend, that a strange surmise, or
rather a revived suspicion, suggested itself as the possible solution
of his conjectures. But was it possible--(Walter's face flushed as
bethought of his own _possible_ absurdity in so suspecting)--was
it in the nature of things--that Adrienne, the peerless, the lovely
and beloved, should conceive one jealous thought of the poor little
Madelaine? The supposition was almost too ridiculous to be harboured for
a moment--and yet _he_ remembered certain passages in their personal
intercourse, when the strangeness (to use no harsher word)