sily bring me to a renunciation of my rights, and that I would readily
consent to sign the instrument of my own shame and sorrow: he found me
most determined. He remained here two days, and again renewed his
attempts, but, finding that I persisted in my refusal, he departed,
having however previously asked me if I would consent to a divorce in
case the prince royal should deem it necessary.

'Yes,' I replied, 'but you must first show me a writing to that effect,
signed by the prince himself.'

I feared lest this occurrence should be the cause of a new sorrow:
Barbara's situation requires so much care, and she feels my troubles so
deeply! I was really alarmed lest her health should suffer, but, thank
God! she feels quite well. Dear Barbara is another me; alas! all who
love me must accept the chalice of misery! The starost was quite uneasy
concerning his wife; they are so happy together, so tenderly united!...
And I, what a sad destiny is mine! I have obtained neither repose, nor
happiness, nor those objects of ambition which I would have consented to
receive from the hand of love.

* * * * *

Here ends the Diary of Frances Krasinska. Her thoughts were too sad,
her memories too bitter, to bear being transferred to paper. When sorrow
in all its bitterness has seized upon the soul, we can no longer see or
hear without a shudder certain words which formerly excited reveries
more or less sweet and seductive within our souls. Frances lost all her
illusions, one by one; she was strong enough to bear up against
injustice, but she was powerless against her husband's indifference.

My readers may perhaps have accused her of ambition; and yet she loved
him; but love is not always absolute devotion and self-abnegation; love
is not always a virtue; it is often the result of egotism; it is, as
Madame de Stael says, one personality in two persons, or a mere double
personality. Frances loved the prince royal, but not the less had she
been dazzled by his rank.

She remained a long time at Sulgostow after Borch's departure. Barbara
Swidzinska, already the mother of one daughter, bore also a son, and
another daughter, who was named Frances. The tenderness, care, and
attention which Frances experienced in her own family could not console
her for the prince royal's desertion. Her sister was the only being in
the world to whom she confided her grief; women have a delicate
sensibility which enables them to