ieur, if a wife's nature loathes that of the man she is wedded to,
marriage must be slavery. Against slavery all right thinkers revolt, and
though torture be the price of resistance, torture must be dared: though
the only road to freedom lie through the gates of death, those gates
must be passed; for freedom is indispensable. Then, monsieur, I would
resist as far as my strength permitted; when that strength failed I
should be sure of a refuge. Death would certainly screen me both from
bad laws and their consequences."

"Voluntary death, Frances?"

"No, monsieur. I'd have courage to live out every throe of anguish fate
assigned me, and principle to contend for justice and liberty to the
last."

"I see you would have made no patient Grizzle. And now, supposing fate
had merely assigned you the lot of an old maid, what then? How would you
have liked celibacy?"

"Not much, certainly. An old maid's life must doubtless be void and
vapid--her heart strained and empty. Had I been an old maid I should
have spent existence in efforts to fill the void and ease the aching. I
should have probably failed, and died weary and disappointed, despised
and of no account, like other single women. But I'm not an old maid,"
she added quickly. "I should have been, though, but for my master. I
should never have suited any man but Professor Crimsworth--no other
gentleman, French, English, or Belgian, would have thought me amiable or
handsome; and I doubt whether I should have cared for the approbation
of many others, if I could have obtained it. Now, I have been Professor
Crimsworth's wife eight years, and what is he in my eyes? Is he
honourable, beloved ----?" She stopped, her voice was cut off, her eyes
suddenly suffused. She and I were standing side by side; she threw her
arms round me, and strained me to her heart with passionate earnestness:
the energy of her whole being glowed in her dark and then dilated
eye, and crimsoned her animated cheek; her look and movement were like
inspiration; in one there was such a flash, in the other such a power.
Half an hour afterwards, when she had become calm, I asked where all
that wild vigour was gone which had transformed her ere-while and made
her glance so thrilling and ardent--her action so rapid and strong. She
looked down, smiling softly and passively:--

"I cannot tell where it is gone, monsieur," said she, "but I know that,
whenever it is wanted, it will come back again."

Behold us now at