me from my attachment to him,
would out of his own love for me and consideration for my happiness,
at last consent to our union.

"We crossed the Alps and went into Italy. Here a new world was opened
to me,--a world of beauty and art. It bestowed upon me many hours of
exquisite enjoyment. The Count travelled with his own carriage and
servants, and we lingered wherever I felt a desire to prolong my
observations. He purchased a collection of pictures, statues, and
other gems and curiosities of art. Among the rest, the Madonna there,
my Adele, which he presented to me, because I so much liked it. But I
must not linger now. On our return to France, we spent a month at
Paris, and there, though too young to be introduced into society, I
met in private many distinguished and fashionable people, who were
friends of the Count.

"We were absent from the chateau one year. It was pleasant to get back
to the dear old place, where I had spent such a happy childhood, the
scene too of so many precious interviews with your beloved father. We
returned again to our former life of quiet ease, enlivened at frequent
intervals by the visits of guests from abroad and by those of friends
and acquaintances among the neighboring nobility. Though I received no
tidings from your father, a secret hope still sustained me. A few
times only, during the first three years of his absence, did I lose
my cheerfulness. Those were, when some lover pressed his suit and I
knew that in repelling it, I was upsetting some cherished scheme of my
uncle. But I will do him the justice to say that he bore it patiently,
and, only at long intervals, gave vent to his vexation and
disappointment.

"It was when my hope concerning your father's return began to fail, and
anxiety respecting his fate began to be indulged in its stead, that my
spirits gave way. At the close of the fourth year of his absence, my
peace was wholly gone and my days were spent in the restless agony of
suspense. My health was rapidly failing, and my uncle who knew the
cause of my prostration, instead of consulting a physician, in the
kindness of his heart, took me to Paris. But the gayeties to which I
was there introduced were distasteful to me. I grew every moment more
sad. Just when my uncle was in despair, I was introduced accidentally
to the Countess de Morny, a lovely lady, who had lost her husband and
three children, and had passed through much sorrow.

"Gradually, she drew me to her heart