of satisfying it.

After this I did not leave the bed of the invalid for a single instant.
In spite of all the doctor's care the fever increased, and at five
o'clock in the morning of October 26th, she succumbed to it. An hour
before she sighed her last, she bade me the last farewell in the presence
of the venerable ecclesiastic who had confessed her at midnight. The
tears which gather fast as I write these words are probably the last
honours I shall pay to this poor victim of a man who is still alive, and
whose destiny seemed to be to make women unhappy.

I sat weeping by the bed of her I loved so dearly, and in vain Madame
Lamarre tried to induce me to come and sit with her. I loved the poor
corpse better than all the world outside.

At noon my brother and his wife came to see me; they had not seen me for
a week, and were getting anxious. They saw the body lovely in death; they
understood my tears, and mingled theirs with mine. At last I asked them
to leave me, and I remained all night by Charlotte's bed, resolved not to
leave it till her body had been consigned to the grave.

The day before this morning of unhappy memory my brother had given me
several letters, but I had not opened any of them. On my return from the
funeral I proceeded to do so, and the first one was from M. Dandolo,
announcing the death of M. de Bragadin; but I could not weep. For
twenty-two years M. de Bragadin had been as a father to me, living
poorly, and even going into debt that I might have enough. He could not
leave me anything, as his property was entailed, while his furniture and
his library would become the prey of his creditors. His two friends, who
were my friends also, were poor, and could give me nothing but their
love. The dreadful news was accompanied by a bill of exchange for a
thousand crowns, which he had sent me twenty-four hours before his death,
foreseeing that it would be the last gift he would ever make me.

I was overwhelmed, and thought that Fortune had done her worst to me.

I spent three days in my brother's house without going out. On the fourth
I began to pay an assiduous court to Princess Lubomirska, who had written
the king, her brother, a letter that must have mortified him, as she
proved beyond a doubt that the tales he had listened to against me were
mere calumny. But your kings do not allow so small a thing to vex or
mortify them. Besides, Stanislas Augustus had just received a dreadful
insult from Russia. R