being constantly anxious to afford pleasure and render some service,
she knew how to give to those, who were not above profiting by her
benevolence, the appearance of being her benefactors. Her kindness
always wore the stamp of gratitude.

Clementine, the pride of the family, was quite worthy of her mother.
Perfect innocence and constant serenity formed her character, and no
one could approach her without loving her. I had never seen, never
fancied her so beautiful as now. Her smile was inspiring, her look
penetrated to the soul, her deportment was the _beau ideal_ of grace,
and she was distinguished above her friends by so much amiability that
she alone was unusually admired. Yet she was the most unassuming of
all; she knew nothing of all her excellence, and was delighted when she
discovered excellence in others. You could imagine that she had never
seen her own image reflected.

I had never touched my harp since I had been with them; she also was
more reserved than when at a distance as formerly; she came less
frequently than any one else, spoke less to me than to others, and yet
was most solicitous about me, watching anxiously my minutest wish.
Only her eyes expressed her friendly feeling towards me.

While my love for her increased to an unconquerable passion, a thousand
obstacles became more evident, which deprived me of all hope of ever
being made happy by her hand. I was poor, as I possessed nothing but a
good reputation and the confidence of all honest people. But how
little is that in the great world! I had, indeed, gained such general
reputation by Bertollon's lawsuit, that the number of my clients
increased daily. Still how long had I to work before I could acquire a
fortune sufficient even to approach Clementine. I saw the lovely
creature every day, both at home and in the garden, sometimes alone and
sometimes in company. Oh! she might easily perceive how much I loved
her, for my silence and my converse, my approach and departure, were so
many betrayers of my heart.

I became daily more embarrassed and uneasy. Absence from her was the
only remedy against inexpressible unhappiness. I came to the
resolution of taking a house for myself, and discovered my intention to
M. de Sonnes. Both he and his aunt opposed me in vain; I remained
immoveable to their wishes and entreaties. Clementine alone neither
appeared nor entreated, but she became more serious, and, as I thought,
more sad.

"You are