been
obliged to return. She was angry with the minister for having sent her a
cheque, thinking that he must be aware that she had been in need, but I
soon brought her to see reason on this point, telling her that it was a
very thoughtful and delicate proceeding on the part of Oeiras, and that
he had merely lent-her the money, and not given it to her.

Pauline was rich, and she was a high-minded woman. Her generosity may be
estimated by her giving me her ring when she was in want, and she
certainly never counted on my purse, though she may have felt sure that I
would not abandon her. I am sure she believed me to be very rich, and my
conduct was certainly calculated to favour that idea.

The day and even the night passed sadly. The next day Pauline addressed
me as follows:

"We must part, dear friend, and try to forget one another, for my honour
obliges me to become the wife of the count as soon as I arrive in Lisbon.
The first fancy of my heart, which you have almost effaced, will regain
all its old force when I see you no longer, and I am sure I shall love my
husband, for he is a goodhearted, honest, and pleasant young man; that
much I know from the few days we lived together.

"Now I have a favour to ask of you, which I am sure you will grant.
Promise me never to come to Lisbon without my permission. I hope you will
not seek to know my reasons; you would not, I am sure, come to trouble my
peace, for if I sinned I should be unhappy, and you would not desire that
for me. I have dreamed we have lived together as man and wife, and now we
are parted I shall fancy myself a widow about to undertake another
marriage."

I burst into tears, and pressing her to my breast promised I would do as
she wished.

Pauline wrote to her aunt and Oeiras that she would be in Lisbon in
October, and that they should have further news of her when she reached
Spain. She had plenty of money, and bought a carriage and engaged a maid,
and these arrangements took up her time during the last week she spent
with me. I made her promise me to let Clairmont accompany her as far as
Madrid. She was to send me back my faithful servant when she reached the
Spanish capital, but fate had decreed that I should see his face no more.

The last few days were spent partly in sorrow and partly in delight. We
looked at each other without speaking, and spoke without knowing what we
said. We forgot to eat, and went to bed hoping that love and anguish
would keep