hours, how many minutes in those three months! I
could be more resigned were I alone to suffer; but he is so unhappy at
our separation!

Thursday, _September 3d._

I have neglected my journal during nearly two months. Good and evil, all
passes in this world. My days have been sad and monotonous, but they are
gone, and their flight brings me nearer to my happiness. The prince
royal assures me in all his letters that he will return in October. I
was crazy with joy to-day when I found the leaves were falling: I am
charmed with this foretaste of autumn. We will leave for Warsaw in a
very few days.

A new incident has lately come to pass: a very brilliant match has been
offered for me, and the princess, who loves me twice as well since I
nursed her through her illness, after having concerted the marriage with
my parents and the Bishop of Kamieniec, hoped to win my consent. I was
forced to bear her anger and reproaches, and worse than all that, the
bitter allusions which she made to the prince royal....

To satisfy my parents, I was obliged to humiliate myself, and write a
letter of excuse; my mother deigned to send me a reply filled with
sorrow, but without anger. She ends her letter by saying: 'Parents who
send their children away from them, must expect to find them rebellious
to their will.'

My poor mother! She still gives me her sacred blessing, and assures me
of my father's forgiveness! Ah! I purchase very dearly my future
happiness and greatness!

WARSAW, Tuesday, _September 22d._

We returned to Warsaw several days ago. Ah! with what joy did I find
myself once more here; how beautiful this city is! Here I will often see
the prince royal. He assures me in his last letter that he will return
by the first of October; I have then only one week to wait; without this
hope I should no longer have any desire to live. Nothing now gives me
any pleasure. Dress tires and annoys me, visits and assemblies weary me
to death; every person whom I meet seems to me a scrutinizing judge; I
fancy that all are pitying or blaming me. Especially do I fear the women
of my acquaintance; they are not indulgent, because they are never
disinterested; they are no better pleased with another woman's good
fortune than they are with her beauty and agreeability....

Even yesterday, with what cruelty Madame ----, but I will not write her
name--questioned me! She enjoyed my confusion; I was almost ready to
weep, and she was delighted. In