contained in them. Distrust itself would here stand convinced. They wear that air of truth which, as I have always maintained, carries authority with it; while falsehood and lies skulk under a load of words, without having the power of persuasion; the more they attempt to show themselves, the more they are entangled. Your expressions are sincere, and they appear so ; they are used only to explain your meaning, and receive an irresistible force from their noble simplicity. Such, my dear child, do your letters appear to me. As for me, I appear to myself quite divested of every thing that made me agreeable; I am ashamed to appear in society; and notwithstanding the endeavors that have been used to bring me back to it, I have latterly been like one just come out of the woods; nor could I be otherwise. Few are worthy of understanding what I feel; I have sought those chosen few, and avoided all others. I fancy you are at Moulins to-day; if so, you will receive one of my letters. I did not write to you at Briafre; if I had, it must have been on that cruel Wednesday, the very day you set off; and I was so overwhelmed with grief that I was incapable even of tasting the consolation of writing to you. This is the third letter; my second is at Lyons. Be sure you let me know if you receive them. When at a distance, we no longer laugh at a letter beginning with, "I received yours," etc. The thought of your going still further and further from me, and of seeing the carriage continually driving on, is what harrows me most. You are always going on, and at last, as you say, you will find yourself at two hundred leagues' distance from me; resolved, therefore, not to suffer such injustice without repaying it in my turn, I shall set myself about removing further off, too, and shall do it so effectually as to make it three hundred. A very pretty distance you will say. And would it not be a step highly worthy the love I have for you, to undertake to traverse all France to find you out? I am delighted at the reconciliation between you and the coadjutor; you know how necessary I always thought it to the happiness of your life.
