And yet my lover does not inspire me with the least fear, and against
all reasoning, I mistrust a love that so little resembles the love I
imagined.

The strangest doubts trouble me. When Roger speaks to me tenderly; when
he lovingly calls me his dear Irene, I am troubled, alarmed--I feel as
if I were deceiving some one, that I am not free, that I belong to
another. Oh! what foolish scruples! How little do I deserve sympathy!
You who have known me from my childhood and are interested in my
happiness, will understand and commiserate my folly, for folly I know it
to be, and judge myself as severely as you would.

I have resolved to treat these wretched misgivings and childish fears
as the creations of a diseased mind, and have arranged a plan for their
cure.

I will go into the country for a short time; good Madame Taverneau
offers me the hospitality of her house at Pont-de-l'Arche; she knows
nothing of what has happened during the last six months, and still
believes me to be a poor young widow, forced to paint fans and screens
for her daily bread.

I am very much amused at hearing her relate my own story without
imagining she is talking to the heroine of that singular romance.

Where could she have learned about my sad situation, the minute details
that I supposed no one knew?

"A young orphan girl of noble birth, at the age of twenty compelled by
misfortune to change her name and work for her livelihood, is suddenly