eed; but at least we will attempt it. You
see, then, there is a mass of serious facts, quite enough to justify the
determination come to by the family-council, which puts me completely at
my ease with regard to your menaces. It is to that I wish to return; a
man of my age and condition never acts lightly--in such circumstances,
and you can readily understand what I was saying to you just now. In a
word, do not hope to leave this place before your complete recovery, and
rest assured, that I am and shall ever be safe from your resentment. This
being once admitted, let us talk of your actual state with all the
interest that you naturally inspire."

"I think, sir, that, considering I am mad, you speak to me very
reasonably."

"Mad! no, thank heaven, my poor child, you are not mad yet--and I hope
that, by my care, you will never be so. It is to prevent your becoming
mad, that one must take it in time; and believe me, it is full time. You
look at me with such an air of surprise--now tell me, what interest can I
have in talking to you thus? Is it the hatred of your aunt that I wish to
favor? To what end, I would ask? What can she do for me or against me? I
think of her at this moment neither more nor less than I thought
yesterday. Is it a new language that I hold to yourself? Did I not speak
to you yesterday many times, of the dangerous excitement of mind in which
you were, and of your singular whims and fancies? It is true, I made use
of stratagem to bring you hither. No doubt, I did so. I hastened to avail
myself of the opportunity, which you yourself offered, my poor, dear
child; for you would never have come hither with your own good will. One
day or the other, we must have found some pretext to get you here: and I
said to myself; 'Her interest before all! Do your duty, let whatever will
betide!'--"

Whilst M. Baleinier was speaking, Adrienne's countenance, which had
hitherto expressed alternately indignation and disdain, assumed an
indefinable look of anguish and horror. On hearing this man talk in such
a natural manner, and with such an appearance of sincerity, justice and
reason, she felt herself more alarmed than ever. An atrocious deception,
clothed in such forms, frightened her a hundred times more than the
avowed hatred of Madame de Saint-Dizier. This audacious hypocrisy seemed
to her so monstrous, that she believed it almost impossible.

Adrienne had so little the art of hiding her emotions, that the doctor, a