. Alas, alas! I fell senseless to the ground when this
announcement was made to me. Jules began to suspect. Already my cold,
embarrassed manner toward him since his return had struck him as
strange. He began to suspect, I repeat, and the effect that this
suspicion had on him, it would be impossible to describe to you. Even
now, after so long a time, now that I am accustomed to his ways, and
more reconciled to my fate by the side of a noble, though somewhat
impetuous man, it makes me tremble to think of those paroxysms, which
the idea that I did not love him called forth. They were fearful; he
nearly sank under them. During two days his life was in danger. At last
the storm passed, my father died; Jules watched over me with the
tenderness of a brother, the solicitude of a parent; for that indeed I
shall ever be grateful. His suspicion once awakened, he gazed round with
penetrating looks to discover the cause of my altered feelings. But your
friend never came to our house; we met in an unfrequented spot, and my
father's illness had interrupted these interviews. Altogether I can not
tell if Jules discovered any thing. A fearful circumstance rendered all
our precautions useless, and cut the knot of our secret connection, to
loose which voluntarily I felt I had no power. A wedding-feast, at a
neighboring castle, assembled all the nobility and gentry, and officers
quartered near, together; my deep mourning was an excuse for my absence.
Jules, though he usually was happiest by my side, could not resist the
invitation, and your friend resolved to go, although he was unwell; he
feared to raise suspicion by remaining away, when I was left at home.
With great difficulty he contrived the first day to make one at a
splendid hunt, the second day he could not leave his bed. A physician,
who was in the house, pronounced his complaint to be violent fever, and
Jules, whose room joined that of the sick man, offered him every little
service and kindness which compassion and good feeling prompted; and I
can not but praise him all the more for it, as who can tell, perhaps,
his suspicion might have taken the right direction? On the morning of
the second day--but let me glance quickly at the terrible time, the
memory of which can never pass from my mind--a fit of apoplexy most
unexpectedly, but gently, ended the noblest life, and separated us
forever! Now you know all. I inclose the ring. I can not write more.
Farewell!"

The conclusion of the