forget, dear Evariste, the difficult
circumstances in which I found myself. You know how it was with me; I
had lost my mother, my father, still a young man, thought only of his
own amusement and neglected me. I had a feeling heart, nature has
dowered me with a loving temper and a generous soul; it was true she had
not denied me a firm will and a sound judgment, but in those days what
ruled my conduct was passion, not reason. Alas! it would be the same
again to-day, if the two were not in harmony; I should be driven to give
myself to you, beloved, heart and soul, and for ever!"

She expressed herself in firm, well-balanced phrases. She had well
thought over what she would say, having long ago made up her mind to
this confession for several reasons--because she was naturally candid,
because she found pleasure in following Rousseau's example, and because,
as she told herself reasonably enough:

"One day Evariste must fathom a secret which is known to others as well
as myself. A frank avowal is best. It is unforced and therefore to my
credit, and only tells him what some time or other he would discover to
my shame."

Soft-hearted as she was and amenable to nature's promptings, she did
not feel herself to be very much to blame, and this made her confession
the easier; besides which, she had no intention of telling more than was
absolutely requisite.

"Ah!" she sighed, "why did I not know you, Evariste, in the days when I
was alone and forsaken?"

Gamelin had taken her request quite literally when Elodie asked him to
be her judge. Primed at once by nature and the education of books for
the exercise of domestic justice, he sat ready to receive Elodie's
admissions.

As she still hesitated, he motioned to her to proceed. Then she began
speaking very simply:

"A young man, who with many defects of character combined some good
qualities, and only showed the latter, found me to his taste and courted
me with a perseverance that was surprising in such a case; he was in the
flower of his youth, full of charm and the idol of a bevy of charming
women who made no attempt to hide their adoration. It was not his good
looks nor even his brilliance that appealed to me.... He touched my
heart by the tokens of true love he gave me, and I do think he loved me
truly. He was tender, impassioned. I asked no pledge save of his heart,
and alas! his heart was fickle.... I blame no one but myself; it is my
confession I am making, not his. I l