th," I exclaimed.

She looked towards heaven, sighed, and leaning forward, a burning tear
rolled on my hand.

"Do you doubt the constancy of my friendship," she said.

"Have I a right to your friendship, Clementine, and this noble heart?
Alas! will it not some day beat more warmly for another? and then,
Clementine, then----"

"Never! Alamontade," she said, rising quickly, and turning away her
face, which was suffused with a gentle glow. I rose with ineffable
rapture, clasped her in my arms, her bosom heaving with strong emotion,
her cheeks glowing, and her looks expressing the words which her lips
refused to utter.

Our souls were united, and made the everlasting compact. A trembling
sigh was our vow, the world vanished like a shadow, and in a kiss we
exchanged life for life.

Oh! what bliss has the hand of the Almighty infused even in the dust,
and how much has it sweetened the lot of the spirit to be united with
the earthly.

When we awoke from our pure rapture, and I could lisp Clementine's
name, and she mine, all nature around was changed, and nothing was left
of the former world. Every thing shone more gloriously and
beautifully; the dull apartment resembled a temple, and a sweet spirit
spoke from every object--from the pictures and from the carpet. Even
the whispering of the trees was significant, and in the waving shadows
of the leaves there was a secret expression of delight.

"I will remain," I exclaimed.

"And for ever," she added.

A few hours afterwards, when I saw Madame de Sonnes, I felt a slight
timidity; but she came to me with a smile, and said, "What changes have
you worked on Clementine? She is inspired. She speaks in verses. She
steps as light as a fairy. But what do I see, Alamontade? Why do you
blush? I am indebted to you. How shall I show my gratitude?"

Saying this, she embraced me with great affection, adding, "You are a
noble man. I know well the dearest reasons you had for leaving us."

I was so confused that I could not reply.

"Singular enough, that I, after all, was not to guess your secret. You
always wished to be the wiser, and so you are, Alamontade, but not this
time! Do you think that I did not perceive your love for Clementine?
Why did you make a secret of it to me, the mother of your beloved?"

"Madame,----" I faltered, more confused.

"I think you would, even now, deny it if you could," she said, in a
pleasant tone. "I stood near you both when in