; circumstances require secrecy until a
certain period, and you alone will know my love and my happiness: he who
betrays me will be henceforth my enemy.'

The princes made the most profound salutations, and expressed themselves
deeply honored by the prince royal's confidence; they assured him that
they would keep his secret most religiously; then, passing by my side,
they whispered in my ear, 'You are worthy of your good fortune,' and
departed.

I stood motionless and dumb, but the prince was so tender, his words
were so persuasive and so eloquent, that I ended by confessing to him
that I had long loved him: I believe one may, without criminality, make
this avowal to one's future husband.... The castle clock at length
struck midnight, that hour for ghosts and wandering spirits; after
midnight their power vanishes.... Can I yet be the plaything of an
illusion?... But no, all is true, my happiness is real, my grandeur is
no dream.... The ring I wear upon my finger attests its truth.

Barbara gave me a ring in the form of a serpent, the symbol of eternity;
the prince royal often fixed his eyes upon it, and now he has had one
made exactly like it, with this inscription: 'Forever,' which he has
exchanged with me for mine. Our first and holy betrothal had no
witnesses but the trees and the nightingales. I will tell no one of this
occurrence, not even the princess.

Alas! Barbara and my parents are also ignorant of it--they have not
blessed our rings; it was not my father who promised me to my betrothed,
nor has my mother given me her blessing!... Alas! my sorrow oppresses
me, and my face is bathed in tears.... Yes, all is true, this must
indeed be life, since I begin to suffer!

Monday, _May 25th._

I have written, and it seems to me as if I had said nothing; I have not
written during the past week, because I found no words to express my
thoughts.... I am happy, and language, which is eloquent in the
expression of sorrow, has no tongue for joy and happiness.

Last week, I took up my pen to write, but I soon gave up the attempt; my
feelings and ideas were confused with their own constant repetition and
renewal, and when my poor head would have presided over the arrangement
of the words, my heart melted into hopes and desires.... I can write
to-day, because the fear of misfortune, of some sudden catastrophe, has
seized upon me.... If he should cease to love me!...

The ro