and my feelings, they have made their last appearance in these
pages.

Seventh Extract.

June 7.--The occasion for opening my diary once more has presented
itself this morning.

News has reached me of Romayne, which is too important to be passed over
without notice. He has been appointed one of the Pope's Chamberlains. It
is also reported, on good authority, that he will be attached to a Papal
embassy when a vacancy occurs. These honors, present and to come, seem
to remove him further than ever from the possibility of a return to his
wife and child.

June 8.--In regard to Romayne, Mrs. Eyrecourt seems to be of my opinion.

Being in Paris to-day, at a morning concert, she there met with her old
friend, Doctor Wybrow. The famous physician is suffering from overwork,
and is on his way to Italy for a few months of rest and recreation. They
took a drive together, after the performance, in the Bois de Boulogne;
and Mrs. Eyrecourt opened her mind to the doctor, as freely as usual, on
the subject of Stella and the child. He entirely agreed (speaking in
the future interests of the boy) that precious time has been lost in
informing Romayne of the birth of an heir; and he has promised, no
matter what obstacles may be placed in his way, to make the announcement
himself, when he reaches Rome.

June 9.--Madame Villeray has been speaking to me confidentially on a
very delicate subject.

I am pledged to discontinue writing about myself. But in these private
pages I may note the substance of what my good friend said to me. If
I only look back often enough at this little record, I may gather the
resolution to profit by her advice. In brief, these were her words:

"Stella has spoken to me in confidence, since she met you accidentally
in the garden yesterday. She cannot be guilty of the poor affectation of
concealing what you must have already discovered for yourself. But
she prefers to say the words that must be said to you, through me. Her
husband's conduct to her is an outrage that she can never forget.
She now looks back with sentiments of repulsion, which she dare not
describe, to that 'love at first sight' (as you call it in England),
conceived on the day when they first met--and she remembers regretfully
that other love, of years since, which was love of steadier and slower
growth. To her shame she confesses that she failed to set you the
example of duty and self-restraint when you two happened to be alone
yesterday. She