nst me any more: all you can say
has been already said by my own heart and refuted by my reason. It was
hard enough to combat those suggestions as they were whispered within me;
in your mouth they are ten times worse, and if you knew how much they
pain me you would cease at once, I know. If you knew my present
feelings, you would even try to relieve them at the expense of your own.'

'I will go--in a minute, if that can relieve you--and NEVER return!' said
I, with bitter emphasis. 'But, if we may never meet, and never hope to
meet again, is it a crime to exchange our thoughts by letter? May not
kindred spirits meet, and mingle in communion, whatever be the fate and
circumstances of their earthly tenements?'

'They may, they may!' cried she, with a momentary burst of glad
enthusiasm. 'I thought of that too, Gilbert, but I feared to mention it,
because I feared you would not understand my views upon the subject. I
fear it even now--I fear any kind friend would tell us we are both
deluding ourselves with the idea of keeping up a spiritual intercourse
without hope or prospect of anything further--without fostering vain
regrets and hurtful aspirations, and feeding thoughts that should be
sternly and pitilessly left to perish of inanition.'

'Never mind our kind friends: if they can part our bodies, it is enough;
in God's name, let them not sunder our souls!' cried I, in terror lest
she should deem it her duty to deny us this last remaining consolation.

'But no letters can pass between us here,' said she, 'without giving
fresh food for scandal; and when I departed, I had intended that my new
abode should be unknown to you as to the rest of the world; not that I
should doubt your word if you promised not to visit me, but I thought you
would be more tranquil in your own mind if you knew you could not do it,
and likely to find less difficulty in abstracting yourself from me if you
could not picture my situation to your mind. But listen,' said she,
smilingly putting up her finger to check my impatient reply: 'in six
months you shall hear from Frederick precisely where I am; and if you
still retain your wish to write to me, and think you can maintain a
correspondence all thought, all spirit--such as disembodied souls or
unimpassioned friends, at least, might hold,--write, and I will answer
you.'

'Six months!'

'Yes, to give your present ardour time to cool, and try the truth and
constancy of your soul's love for min