r; stay here. I will marry
you."

"Nay, no more of that."

With these words she made an effort, escaped from my hands, and fled from
the room. I was covered with shame and regret, and could not sleep. I
hated myself, for I knew not whether I had sinned most grievously in
seducing her or in abandoning her to another.

I stayed to dinner next day in spite of my heartbreak and my sadness.
Mdlle. de la Meure talked so brilliantly and sensibly to her intended
that one could easily see he was enchanted with her. As for me, feeling
that I had nothing pleasant to say, I pretended to have the toothache as
an excuse for not talking. Sick at heart, absent-minded, and feeling the
effects of a sleepless night, I was well-nigh mad with love, jealousy,
and despair. Mdlle. de la Meure did not speak to me once, did not so much
as look at me. She was quite right, but I did not think so then. I
thought the dinner would never come to an end, and I do not think I was
ever present at so painful a meal.

As we rose from the table, Madame went into her closet with her niece and
nephew that was to be, and the niece came out in the course of an hour
and bade us congratulate her, as she was to be married in a week, and
after the wedding she would accompany her husband to Dunkirk.
"To-morrow," she added, "we are all to dine with M. Corneman, where the
deed of settlement will be signed."

I cannot imagine how it was I did not fall dead on the spot. My anguish
cannot be expressed.

Before long it was proposed that we should go to the play, but excusing
myself on the plea of business I returned to Paris. As I got to my door I
seemed to be in a fever, and I lay down on my bed, but instead of the
rest I needed I experienced only remorse and fruitless repentance-the
torments of the damned. I began to think it was my duty to stop the
marriage or die. I was sure that Mdlle. de la Meure loved me, and I
fancied she would not say no if I told her that her refusal to marry me
would cost me my life. Full of that idea I rose and wrote her a letter,
strong with all the strength of tumultuous passion. This was some relief,
and getting into bed I slept till morning. As soon as I was awake I
summoned a messenger and promised him twelve francs if he would deliver
my letter, and report its receipt in an hour and a half. My letter was
under cover of a note addressed to Tiretta, in which I told him that I
should not leave the house till I had got an answer. I ha