a friend. Only never begin the subject yourself, as there are moments
when I cannot bear to think of it."

"I promise you this, Francis," I replied, pressing her hand.

It would be impossible for me to recount all the feelings which passed
through my mind in listening to Francis's trials. I will not weary you,
dear William, for I acknowledge I felt sad and irritable. And yet I
tried to think these were her "campaign years," as she calls them,
though it was evident her heart had suffered long before she attained
her twenty-fifth birthday. If she had told me of deception, so common
in the world, of an engagement broken off, of a misplaced affection,
such things would not have troubled my peace of mind. What affected
me was to think this Englishman had won the place in her affections
which I wished to be the first to occupy--that place which permits
a man to inspire a woman with confidence, and exercise over her an
influence authoritative and beneficial. Time had done much to cool
her love for him, but she had not forgotten him; and it was certainly
a devotion to his memory which rendered her so indifferent to the
merits of other men. I wondered if she had told me all this history
in order to make me comprehend the improbability of my being able
to replace her ideal. Had she not told me on the heath, on our first
meeting, that if she suspected I came to demand her hand in marriage,
she would leave me there and then? I felt myself diminishing in her
estimation. And there was a portrait of William III. hanging over
the mantelpiece which seemed to say to me, ironically, "Too late,
too late!"

Yet again I asked myself whether I was not growing jealous of a vain
shadow. Eight years had passed since these events. She was no longer a
little girl, who could imagine she saw a Romeo in her mentor who was a
long way on the wrong side of forty. Who could say that the comparison,
which she could not fail to make now, would be to my disadvantage?

I determined not to remain in this perplexity. At the risk of
committing an imprudence, I made up my mind to ask her whether she
regarded the loss of her Lord William as irreparable. It was necessary
for me to know what chance of success was left me.

This night I slept little, for I was rolling over in my mind all
sorts of extravagant declarations which I intended to make to my
cousin next day. This, however, was the day preceding the General's
birthday, and Francis was fully occupied