d
inflicts by its ruthless usages."

"We will now speak only of thy sister. Has she been here bestowed without
regard to her own wishes, Sigismund?"

"I hope not. Christine is meek;, but, while neither word nor look betrays
the weakness, still she feels the load that crushes us both. She has long
accustomed herself to look at all her own merits through the medium of
this debasement, and has set too low a value on her own excellent
qualities. Much, very much depends, in this life, on our own habits of
self-estimation, Adelheid; for he who is prepared to admit unworthiness--I
speak not of demerit towards God but towards men--will soon become
accustomed to familiarity with a standard below his just pretensions, and
will end perhaps in being the thing he dreaded. Such has been the
consequence of Christine's knowledge of her birth, for, to her meek
spirit, there is an appearance of generosity in overlooking this grand
defect, and it has too well prepared her mind to endow the youth with a
hundred more of the qualities that are absolutely necessary to her esteem,
but which I fear exist only in her own warm fancy."

"This is touching on the most difficult branch of human knowledge,"
returned Adelheid, smiling sweetly on the agitated brother; "a just
appreciation of ourselves. If there is danger of setting too low a value
on our merits, there is also some danger of setting too high; though I
perfectly comprehend the difference you would make between vulgar vanity,
and that self-respect which is certainly in some degree necessary to
success. But one, like her thou hast described, would scarce yield her
affections without good reason to think them well bestowed."

"Adelheid, thou, who hast never felt the world's contempt, cannot
understand how winning respect and esteem can be made to those who pine
beneath its weight! My sister hath so long accustomed herself to think
meanly of her hopes, that the appearance of liberality and justice in this
youth would have been sufficient of itself to soften her feelings in his
favor. I cannot say I think--for Christine will soon be his wife--but I
will say, I fear that the simple fact of his choosing one that the world
persecutes has given him a value in her eyes he might not otherwise have
possessed."

"Thou dost not appear to approve of thy sister's choice?"

"I know the details of the disgusting bargain better than poor Christine,"
answered the young man, speaking between his teeth,