house with the most unpardonable rudeness this tortures you. You fear
some disastrous consequences from which you cannot escape, your heart and
mind are at war, and there is a struggle in your breast between passion
and sentiment. Perhaps I am wrong, but yesterday you seemed to me happy
and to-day miserable. I pity you, because you have inspired me with the
tenderest feelings of friendship. I did my best to-day to converse with
the husband that you might be free to talk to the wife, who seems to me
well worthy of your love."

"All that you have said is true. Your friendship is dear to me, and I
have a high opinion of your intellectual powers. The widow is a monster
who has made me wretched in return for my contempt, and I cannot revenge
myself on her. Honour will not allow me to tell you any more, and indeed
it would be impossible for you or any one else to alleviate the grief
that overwhelms me. It may possibly be my death, but in the mean time, my
dear Dubois, I entreat you to continue your friendship towards me, and to
treat me with entire candour. I shall always attend to what you say, and
thus you will be of the greatest service to me. I shall not be
ungrateful."

I spent a weary night as I had expected, for anger, the mother of
vengeance, always made me sleepless, while sudden happiness had sometimes
the same effect.

I rang for Le Duc early in the morning, but, instead of him, Madame
Dubois's ugly little attendant came, and told me that my man was ill, and
that the housekeeper would bring me my chocolate. She came in directly
after, and I had no sooner swallowed the chocolate than I was seized with
a violent attack of sickness, the effect of anger, which at its height
may kill the man who cannot satisfy it. My concentrated rage called for