place within her reach. It would thus seem
that even this French woman, contrary to your old theory, is atoning for
an early sin by a life of penance.

"And now, my dear Johns, I have to confess to you another deceit of
mine. This woman--Julie Chalet when I knew her of old, and still wearing
the name--has no knowledge that she has a child now living. To divert
all inquiry, and to insure entire alienation of my little girl from all
French ties, I caused a false mention of the death of Adele to be
inserted in the Gazette of Marseilles. I know you will be very much
shocked at this, my dear Johns, and perhaps count it as large a sin as
the grosser one; that I committed it for the child's sake will be no
excuse in your eye, I know. You may count me as bad as you
choose,--only give me credit for the fatherly affection which would
still make the path as easy and as thornless as I can for my poor
daughter.

"If Julie, the mother of Adele, knew to-day of her existence,--if I
should carry that information to her,--I am sure that all her rigidities
would be consumed like flax in a flame. That method, at least, is left
for winning her to any action upon which I may determine. Shall I use
it? I ask you as one who, I am sure, has learned to love Adele, and who,
I hope, has not wholly given over a friendly feeling toward me. Consider
well, however, that the mother is now one of the most rigid of
Catholics; I learn that she is even thinking of conventual life. I know
her spirit and temper well enough to be sure that, if she were to meet
the child again which she believes lost, it would be with an impetuosity
of feeling and a devotion that would absorb every aim of her life. This
disclosure is the only one by which I could hope to win her to any
consideration of marriage; and with a mother's rights and a mother's
love, would she not sweep away all that Protestant faith which you, for
so many years, have been laboring to build up in the mind of my child?
Whatever you may think, I do not conceive this to be impossible; and if
possible, is it to be avoided at all hazards? Whatever I might have owed
to the mother I feel in a measure absolved from by her rejection of all
present advances. And inasmuch as I am making you my father confessor, I
may as well tell you, my dear Johns, that no particular self-denial
would be involved in a marriage with Mademoiselle Chalet. For myself, I
am past the age of sentiment; my fortune is now established;