the portrait he drew of her. Poor Agricola! how would he have
suffered, had he known that every one of his words was tearing my heart.
Never did I so strongly feel the deep commiseration and tender pity,
inspired by a good, affectionate being, who, in the sincerity of his
ignorance, gives you your death-wound with a smile. We do not blame
him--no--we pity him to the full extent of the grief that he would feel
on learning the pain he had caused me. It is strange! but never did
Agricola appear to me more handsome than this morning. His manly
countenance was slightly agitated, as he spoke of the uneasiness of that
pretty young lady. As I listened to him describing the agony of a woman
who runs the risk of ruin for the man she loves, I felt my heart beat
violently, my hands were burning, a soft languor floated over
me--Ridiculous folly! As if I had any right to feel thus!

"I remember that, while he spoke, I cast a rapid glance at the glass. I
felt proud that I was so well dressed; he had not even remarked it; but
no matter--it seemed to me that my cap became me, that my hair shone
finely, my gaze beamed mild--I found Agricola so handsome, that I almost
began to think myself less ugly--no doubt, to excuse myself in my own
eyes for daring to love him. After all, what happened to-day would have
happened one day or another! Yes, that is consoling--like the thoughts
that death is nothing, because it must come at last--to those who are in
love with life! I have been always preserved from suicide--the last
resource of the unfortunate, who prefer trusting in God to remaining
amongst his creatures--by the sense of duty. One must not only think of
self. And I reflected also'God is good--always good--since the most
wretched beings find opportunities for love and devotion.' How is it that
I, so weak and poor, have always found means to be helpful and useful to
some one?

"This very day I felt tempted to make an end with life--Agricola and his
mother had no longer need of me.--Yes, but the unfortunate creatures whom
Mdlle. de Cardoville has commissioned me to watch over?--but my
benefactress herself, though she has affectionately reproached me with
the tenacity of my suspicions in regard to that man? I am more than ever
alarmed for her--I feel that she is more than ever in danger--more than
ever--I have faith in the value of my presence near her. Hence, I must
live. Live--to go to-morrow to see this girl, whom Agricola passionately
lo