ever, and notwithstanding this
state of abject despair, she felt, cropping up somewhere in her heart, a
faint germ of gladness, and, by close examination, discovered its origin:
she was now loosed from her obligations toward Claudet, and the prospect
of being once more free afforded her immediate consolation.

She had so much regretted, during the last few weeks, the feeling of
outraged pride which had incited her to consent to this marriage; her
loyal, sincere nature had revolted at the constraint she had imposed upon
herself; her nerves had been so severely taxed by having to receive her
fiance with sufficient warmth to satisfy his expectations, and yet not
afford any encouragement to his demonstrative tendencies, that the
certainty of her newly acquired freedom created a sensation of relief and
well-being. But, hardly had she analyzed and acknowledged this sensation
when she reproached herself for harboring it when she was about to cause
Claudet such affliction.

Poor Claudet! what a cruel blow was in store for him! He was so
guilelessly in love, and had such unbounded confidence in the success of
his projects! Reine was overcome by tender reminiscences. She had always
experienced, as if divining by instinct the natural bonds which united
them, a sisterly affection for Claudet. Since their earliest infancy, at
the age when they learned their catechism under the church porch, they
had been united in a bond of friendly fellowship. With Reine, this tender
feeling had always remained one of friendship, but, with Claudet, it had
ripened into love; and now, after allowing the poor young fellow to
believe that his love was reciprocated, she was forced to disabuse him.
It was useless for her to try to find some way of softening the blow;
there was none. Claudet was too much in love to remain satisfied with
empty words; he would require solid reasons; and the only conclusive one
which would convince him, without wounding his self-love, was exactly the
one which the young girl could not give him. She was, therefore, doomed
to send Claudet away with the impression that he had been jilted by a
heartless and unprincipled coquette. And yet something must be done. The
grand chasserot had been too long already in the toils; there was
something barbarously cruel in not freeing him from his illusions.

In this troubled state of mind, Reine gazed appealingly at the silent
witnesses of her distress. She heard a voice within her saying