yet
more completely alienated from me than though we dwelt in the opposite
parts of the earth. But my burning sighs, my bitter tears, reached not
you; or, I feel almost persuaded, they would have moved even you to pity
me. And now it seems to me that you must have divined my sufferings, and
have come, like an angel of goodness as you are, to whisper in my ears
bright promises of days of unclouded happiness. No longer shall I be
doomed to gaze in unavailing yet doting admiration on your graceful
beauty; no more shall I account myself most blessed yet most accursed in
possessing a creature of matchless excellence, whose charms of mind and
body, alas! I am forbidden to consider as mine; but now the envious
barrier which has thus long divided us is about to be withdrawn, and the
treasure my beating heart tells me is all my own will henceforward be
freely, indisputably mine! Will it not, dear Clemence? Speak to me, and
confirm that which the busy throbbings of my joyful heart tell me to
hope for and expect, as the reward of all I have so long endured!"

As M. d'Harville uttered these last words, he seized the hand of his
wife, and covered it with passionate kisses; while Clemence, much
grieved at the mistake her husband had fallen into, could not avoid
withdrawing her hand with a mixture of terror and disgust. And the
expression of her countenance so plainly bespoke her feelings, that M.
d'Harville saw at once the fearful error he had committed. The blow fell
with redoubled force after the tender visions he had so lately conjured
up. A look of intense agony replaced the bright exultation of his
countenance exhibited a little while since, when Madame d'Harville,
eagerly extending her hand towards him, said, in an agitated tone:

"Albert, receive my solemn promise to be unto you as the most tender and
affectionate sister,--but nothing more. Forgive me, I beseech you, if,
inadvertently, my words have inspired you with hopes which can never be
realised."

"Never?" exclaimed M. d'Harville, fixing on his wife a look of
despairing entreaty.

"Never!" answered she. The single word, with the tone in which it was
spoken, proved but too well the irrevocable decision Clemence had
formed.

Brought back, by the influence of Rodolph, to all her nobleness of
character, Madame d'Harville had firmly resolved to bestow on her
husband every kind and affectionate attention; but to love him she felt
utterly out of her power; and to this imm