She bent her knee, and I was afraid would have fainted. I clasped my supporting arms about her.

Let me, let me cut short all I intended to say, said she, by referring to my paper. The contents of that are not, cannot be, answered to my satisfaction. Be my advocate to yourself, to your own heart, and seek not to entangle me with your love.

Whatever it cost me (taking both her hands in mine, and bowing upon them) 1 will yield to your pleasure. 1 never will urge you again on this sub-ject, unless your brother the bishop give me hope of your welcome change of mind, s

Best of men, said she, withdrawing her hands, and clasping them together But this is not enough You must promise me your future friendship. You must let me call you brother; you must be my tutor, I your pupil, once more Happy days were those; the happiest of my life! And encourage and confirm in me the resolution 1 have taken, or I shall not be happy!

Look upon me, madam, as your brother, as your friend: but this latter task requires more magnani-mity than I am master of. To your brother the bishop, and to Father Marescotti, I must leave that task. They will be in earnest in it. 1 cannot; because I am convinced, in my own mind, that we might have been happy Could you But I forbear, though with difficulty I h^we promised not to urge you further.

Indeed I have consulted them both, resumed she; but not before I gave you my written determination: even had they given their opinions different from what they did, I never could have got over the ap-prehensions I have of your strength, and my own weakness. I only consulted them, in hopes they would (as they did, or they had not been good Catholics) confirm and strengthen my mind. And why, why, should I punish the man, I must for ever esteem as my best friend, with a wife, that her unhappy malady has made unworthy of him? Dear chevalier, I find myself at times not recovered. I may never be quite well. You and yours deserve not to be punished, but rewarded. Believe me, Sir, this has been a second consideration with me. God enable me to adhere to my resolution! for his sake, for your sake, and for the sake of my own peace of mind!

Must it not be difficult, my dear Dr. Bartlett, more difficult than when I came over to Bologna, to give up all hopes of so exalted a woman?

But say, chevalier, you are not angry with me. Say, that you do not, that you will not, think me ungrateful. To obviate such a charge as that of ingratitude, to a man who has laid us all under such obligations What is it that I would not do?