been frequently unkind, unrelenting, and perhaps even cruel,
towards you? Ought I not to have remembered that it required a more than
ordinary share of courage to act otherwise than you did,--a virtue more
than human to renounce the hope of exchanging a cheerless, solitary
life, for one of wedded sympathy and happiness? Alas, when we are in
grief or suffering, it is so natural to trust to the kindness and
goodness of others! Hitherto your fault has been in depending too much
on my generosity; henceforward it shall be my aim to show you, you have
not trusted in vain."

"Oh, go on! Go on! Continue still to utter such heavenly words!"
exclaimed M. d'Harville, gazing in almost ecstasy on the countenance of
his wife, and clasping his hands in fervid supplication. "Let me again
hear you pronounce my pardon, and it will seem as though a new existence
were opening upon me."

"Our destinies are inseparably united, and death only can dissever us.
Believe me, it shall for the future be my study to render life less
painful to you than it has been."

"Merciful Heaven! Do I hear aright? Clemence, can it be you who have
spoken these dear, these enchanting words?"

"Let me conjure you to spare me the pain and humiliation of hearing you
express so much astonishment at my speaking as my duty prompts me to do;
indeed, your reluctance to credit my assertions grieves me more than I
can describe. How cruel a censure does it imply upon my past conduct!
Ah, who will pity and soothe you in your severe trials, if not I? I seem
inspired by some holy voice, speaking within my breast, to reflect upon
my past conduct. I have deeply meditated on all that has happened, as
well as on the future. My faults rise up in judgment against me; but
with them come also the whisperings of my awakened feelings, teaching me
how to repair my past errors."

"Your errors, my poor injured Clemence! Alas, you were not to blame!"

"Yes, I was. I ought frankly to have appealed to your honour to release
me from the painful necessity of living with you as your wife; and that,
too, on the day following our marriage,--"

"Clemence, for pity's sake no more!"

"Otherwise, in accepting my position, I ought to have elevated it by my
entire submission and devotion. Under the circumstances in which I was
placed, instead of allowing my coldness and proud reserve to act as a
continual reproach, I should have directed all my endeavours to console
you for so heavy a misfortun