your godfather."

She relinquished his hands, and turning toward the Abbe, said:

"I have come to beg you to listen to my confession--yes, my confession.
But do not go away, Monsieur Jean; I will make my confession publicly. I
am quite willing to speak before you, and now I think of it, it will be
better thus. Let us sit down, shall we?"

She felt herself full of confidence and daring. She burned with fever,
but with that fever which, on the field of battle, gives to a soldier
ardor, heroism, and disdain of danger. The emotion which made Bettina's
heart beat quicker than usual was a high and generous emotion. She said
to herself:

"I will be loved! I will love! I will be happy! I will make him happy!
And since he has not sufficient courage to do it, I must have it for
both. I must march alone, my head high, and my heart at ease, to the
conquest of our love, to the conquest of our happiness!"

From her first words Bettina had gained over the Abbe and Jean a complete
ascendancy. They let her say what she liked, they let her do as she
liked, they felt that the hour was supreme; they understood that what was
happening would be decisive, irrevocable, but neither was in a position
to foresee.

They sat down obediently, almost automatically; they waited, they
listened. Alone, of the three, Bettina retained her composure. It was in
a calm and even voice that she began.

"I must tell you first, Monsieur le Cure, to set your conscience quite at
rest, I must tell you that I am here with the consent of my sister and my
brother-in-law. They know why I have come; they know what I am about to
do. They not only know, but they approve. That is settled, is it not?
Well, what brings me here is your letter, Monsieur Jean, that letter in
which you tell my sister that you can not dine with us this evening, and
that you are positively obliged to leave here. This letter has unsettled
all my plans. I had intended, this evening--of course with the permission
of my sister and brother-in-law--I had intended, after dinner, to take
you into the park, to seat myself with you on a bench; I was childish
enough to choose the place beforehand."

"There I should have delivered a little speech, well prepared, well
studied, almost learned by heart, for since your departure I have
scarcely thought of anything else; I repeat it to myself from morning to
night. That is what I had proposed to do, and you understand that your
letter caused me much emba