;
Vous m'etes cher sans doute, et ma tendresse extreme
Est le comble des maux pour ce coeur qui vous aime."
"O ciel! expliquez-vous, quoi toujours me troubler,
Se peut-il?" "Dieu puissant, que ne puis-je parler?"

About three weeks before the 1st of March, which was the day
fixed upon for our removal to town, I had been taking a long
ride, and came home at about four o'clock. My habit was wet
and heavy, and I walked with difficulty across the hall,
up-stairs, and along the passage which led to my room. As I
was passing before the door of what was called the south
bed-room, my eyes suddenly fell on two trunks covered with
mud, and on the brass plates of which was stamped the name
of "Edward Middleton, Esq." At the same moment the door
opened, and he stood before me. I felt myself turning as
white as a sheet, and was obliged to lean against the wall
to prevent myself from falling. He seized my hand, and said,
with apparent cordiality, "How are you, Ellen?"

I do not know what I said to him; there was a mist before my
eyes, a murmur in my ears, and a feeling about my heart that I
was strangely happy, though dreadfully frightened. Soon I was
alone in my room, with my feet on the fender, and my eyes
fixed on the burning embers, and repeating to myself over and
over again, "How are you, Ellen?" and then I remembered that
he knew _all_, that he had seen _all_, that he had left
Elmsley because he could not bear to stay, knowing all he did,
and I trembled; and hiding my face in my hands, I cried as if
my heart would break. Then a new thought came to me, and
brought an extraordinary peace with it. I would tell him
everything, and he should decide what I ought to do; his
decision should be law to me; I would submit to it humbly, and
obediently, although it might be that I was never to see again
any of those whom I loved, and spend my future life in
loneliness and penance.

The dressing-bell rang; my maid came in with a muslin gown on
her arm, and some camellias in her hand, and there was again a
flutter at my heart, as if dressing and going down-stairs and
dining, had been as different things yesterday from what they
were to-day, as the tamest prose is from the most exciting
poetry.

When I opened the door of the library, Edward was sitting with
his back towards me, talking eagerly to Mr. Middleton; as I
approached them I heard him say, "If I could only be convinced
of it, nothing on earth would make me so