nited poverty a very charming picture, I believe. I
am sure I should make an excellent wife for the husband I loved. If you
must leave France, as they tell me you must, I will follow you--I will be
your brave and faithful helpmate. Pardon me, one word more, Monsieur de
Camors. My proposition would be immodest if it concealed any
afterthought. It conceals none. I am poor. I have but fifteen hundred
francs' income. If you are richer than I, consider I have said nothing;
for nothing in the world would then induce me to marry you!"

She paused; and with a manner of mingled yearning, candor, and anguish,
fixed on him her large eyes full of fire.

There was a solemn pause. Between these strange natures, both high and
noble, a terrible destiny seemed pending at this moment, and both felt
it.

At length Camors responded in a grave, calm voice: "It is impossible,
Mademoiselle, that you can appreciate the trial to which you expose me;
but I have searched my heart, and I there find nothing worthy of you. Do
me the justice to believe that my decision is based neither upon your
fortune nor upon my own: but I am resolved never to marry." She sighed
deeply, and rose. "Adieu, cousin," she said.

"I beg--I pray you to remain one moment," cried the young man, reseating
her with gentle force upon the sofa. He walked half across the room to
repress his agitation; then leaning on a table near the young girl, said:

"Mademoiselle Charlotte, you are unhappy; are you not?"

"A little, perhaps," she answered.

"I do not mean at this moment, but always?"

"Always!"

"Aunt de la Roche-Jugan treats you harshly?"

"Undoubtedly; she dreads that I may entrap her son. Good heavens!"

"The little Tonneliers are jealous of you, and Uncle Tonnelier torments
you?"

"Basely!" she said; and two tears swam on her eyelashes, then glistened
like diamonds on her cheek.

"And what do you believe of the religion of our aunt?"

"What would you have me believe of religion that bestows no
virtue--restrains no vice?"

"Then you are a non-believer?"

"One may believe in God and the Gospel without believing in the religion
of our aunt."

"But she will drive you into a convent. Why, then, do you not enter one?"

"I love life," the girl said.

He looked at her silently a moment, then continued "Yes, you love
life--the sunlight, the thoughts, the arts, the luxuries--everything that
is beautiful, like yourself. Then, Mademoiselle Charlotte, all thes