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yet more completely alienated from me than though we dwelt in the opposite parts of the earth. But my burning sighs, my bitter tears, reached not you; or, I feel almost persuaded, they would have moved even you to pity me. And now it seems to me that you must have divined my sufferings, and have come, like an angel of goodness as you are, to whisper in my ears bright promises of days of unclouded happiness. No longer shall I be doomed to gaze in unavailing yet doting admiration on your graceful beauty; no more shall I account myself most blessed yet most accursed in possessing a creature of matchless excellence, whose charms of mind and body, alas! I am forbidden to consider as mine; but now the envious barrier which has thus long divided us is about to be withdrawn, and the treasure my beating heart tells me is all my own will henceforward be freely, indisputably mine! Will it not, dear Clemence? Speak to me, and confirm that which the busy throbbings of my joyful heart tell me to hope for and expect, as the reward of all I have so long endured!" As M. d'Harville uttered these last words, he seized the hand of his wife, and covered it with passionate kisses; while Clemence, much grieved at the mistake her husband had fallen into, could not avoid withdrawing her hand with a mixture of terror and disgust. And the expression of her countenance so plainly bespoke her feelings, that M. d'Harville saw at once the fearful error he had committed. The blow fell with redoubled force after the tender visions he had so lately conjured up. A look of intense agony replaced the bright exultation of his countenance exhibited a little while since, when Madame d'Harville, eagerly extending her hand towards him, said, in an agitated tone: "Albert, receive my solemn promise to be unto you as the most tender and affectionate sister,--but nothing more. Forgive me, I beseech you, if, inadvertently, my words have inspired you with hopes which can never be realised." "Never?" exclaimed M. d'Harville, fixing on his wife a look of despairing entreaty. "Never!" answered she. The single word, with the tone in which it was spoken, proved but too well the irrevocable decision Clemence had formed. Brought back, by the influence of Rodolph, to all her nobleness of character, Madame d'Harville had firmly resolved to bestow on her husband every kind and affectionate attention; but to love him she felt utterly out of her power; and to this imm
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