ees; and amidst the stillness of the night we
distinctly heard their conversation, which I have not forgotten.

"Paul said to her, 'You are going, they tell me, in three days. You do not
fear, then, to encounter the danger of the sea, at which you are so much
terrified!' 'I must fulfil my duty,' answered Virginia, 'by obeying my
parent.' 'You leave us,' resumed Paul, 'for a distant relation, whom you
have never seen.' 'Alas!' cried Virginia, 'I would have remained my whole
life here, but my mother would not have it so. My confessor told me that it
was the will of God I should go, and that life was a trial!'

"'What,' exclaimed Paul, 'you have found so many reasons then for going,
and not one for remaining here! Ah! there is one reason for your departure,
which you have not mentioned. Riches have great attractions. You will soon
find in the new world, to which you are going, another to whom you will
give the name of brother, which you will bestow on me no more. You will
choose that brother from amongst persons who are worthy of you by their
birth, and by a fortune which I have not to offer. But where will you go in
order to be happier? On what shore will you land which will be dearer to
you than the spot which gave you birth? Where will you find a society more
interesting to you than this by which you are so beloved? How will you bear
to live without your mother's caresses, to which you are so accustomed?
What will become of her, already advanced in years, when she will no longer
see you at her side at table, in the house, in the walks where she used to
lean upon you? What will become of my mother who loves you with the same
affection? What shall I say to comfort them when I see them weeping for
your absence! Cruel! I speak not to you of myself; but what will become of
me, when in the morning I shall no more see you: when the evening will come
and will not reunite us? When I shall gaze on the two palm trees, planted
at our birth, and so long the witnesses of our mutual friendship? Ah; since
a new destiny attracts you, since you seek in a country, distant from your
own, other possessions than those which were the fruits of my labour, let
me accompany you in the vessel in which you are going to embark. I will
animate your courage in the midst of those tempests at which you are so
terrified even on shore. I will lay your head on my bosom. I will warm your
heart upon my own; and in France, where you go in search of fortune and