bly resemble you. "Ah," you will say, "he has learnt to pay fine
compliments." And this is partly true; I have been very agreeable
lately, as it was not in my power to be otherwise. But I must tell you
of Miss B----. She has abundance of soul, which flashes from her deep
blue eyes. Her rank is a torment to her, and satisfies no single desire
of her heart. She knows you, my dear Charlotte, as I have told her all
about you, and renders homage to your merits; but her homage is not
exacted, but voluntary--she loves you, and delights to hear you made the
subject of conversation. Adieu! Is Albert with you, and what is he to
you? Forgive the question.

_February 20_. I thank you, Albert, for having deceived me. I waited for
the news that your wedding-day was fixed, and I meant on that day to
remove Charlotte's picture from the wall, and bury it with some old
papers that I wish destroyed. You are now united, and the picture
remains. Well, let it remain. Why should it not?

_III.--"I Can Remain No Longer"_

_June 11_. Say what you will, I can remain here no longer. Why should I
remain? The prince is as gracious to me as anyone could be, and yet I am
not at my ease. There is, indeed, nothing in common between us; he is a
man of understanding, but quite of the ordinary kind. His conversation
gives me no more amusement than I should derive from an ordinary
well-written book. Whither am I going? I think it would be better for me
to visit the mines in----. But I am only deluding myself thus. You know
that I only want to be near my dear Charlotte once more. I smile at the
suggestion of my heart, but I obey its dictates.

_July 29_. Dear Wilhelm, my whole frame feels convulsed when I see
Albert put his arms round that slender waist. Oh, the very thought of
folding that dearest of heaven's creatures in one's arms.

And--shall I avow it? Why should I not?--she would have been happier
with me than with him. Albert is not the man to satisfy the wishes of
such a heart. He wants a certain sensibility; he wants--in short, their
hearts do not beat in unison. But, Wilhelm, he loves her with his whole
heart, and what does not such a love deserve?

_September 5_. Charlotte had written a letter to her husband in the
country, where he was detained on business. It began: "My dearest love,
return as soon as possible. I await you with a thousand raptures!"

A friend who arrived brought word that he could not return immediately.
Her letter f