had a poor, dear father, who had nothing in the wide world but me, me
alone! You think perhaps, mother, that I am not unhappy; while I am
giddy and play foolish pranks, you believe me to be happy and contented.
Ah, mother, I have an inward horror and prophetic fear of the future
which never leaves me; it seems to me that evil spirits surround me--as
if they enchanted me with strange, alluring songs. I know they will
work my destruction, but I cannot withstand them--I must listen, I must
succumb to them. I would gladly be different--be better. I desire to be
a virtuous and modest girl, but alas, alas, I cannot escape from this
magic circle to which my mother has condemned me! I have lived too fast,
experienced too much--I am no longer a child--I am an experienced woman.
The world and the things of the world call me with a thousand alluring
voices, and I shall be lost as my mother was lost! I am her most unhappy
daughter, and her blood is in my heart!" Almost insensible, crushed by
excitement and passion, Camilla sank to the earth.

Her mother looked at her with cold and tearless eyes; her hair seemed
to stand erect, and a cold, dead hand seemed placed upon her heart and
almost stilled its beatings. "I have deserved this," murmured she; "God
punishes the levity of my youth through my own child." She bowed down to
her daughter and raised her softly in her arms.

"Come, my child," she said, tenderly, "we will forget this hour--we will
strive to live in love and harmony with each other. You are right!
You are no longer a child, and I will think of introducing you to the
world."

"And you will dismiss Madame Brunnen," said Camilla, gayly. "Oh, mamma,
you have no idea how she tortures and martyrs me with her Argus-eyes,
and watches me day and night. Will you not dismiss her, mamma, and take
no other governess?"

"I will think of it," said her mother, sadly. But now a servant entered
and announced Count Ranuzi. Madame du Trouffle blushed, and directed the
servant to conduct him to the parlor.

Camilla looked at her roguishly, and said: "If you really think me a
grown-up girl, take me with you to the parlor."

Madame du Trouffle refused. "You are not properly dressed, and besides,
I have important business with the count."

Camilla turned her back scornfully, and her mother left the room;
Camilla returned to the sofa and Madame du Trouffle entered the saloon.
In the levity and frivolity of their hearts they had both forgo