agreeable man), but now he looked on himself as an accepted lover, my indifference turned into perfect aversion to him. I believe the seeing poor Juliè's continual unhappiness was one cause that I could not bear him to come near me. Besides, I fancied that he saw her love (notwithstanding all her endeavours to conceal it), and did not treat her in the manner a good-natured man would have done in that case. In short, I soon resolved to declare to my father that nothing could make me so unhappy as the marrying this gentleman, and to desire his permission to refuse him. But before I took this step, I was willing to talk to Juliè about it; for as I saw her unhappy situation, I dreaded doing anything that might make her more miserable, I was very much perplexed in what manner I could bring about a conversation on a subject, the very mentioning of which had so violent an effect on her. But one day, as we were sitting together, it came into my head to tell her a story parallel to our case; where a young woman, by an obstinate concealing from her friend that she was in love with the gentleman by whom this friend was addressed, suffered her innocently and ignorantly to marry the man for whom she had not so violent a passion, but that she could easily, and would have controlled and conquered it, had she known the passion of her friend, and the dreadful consequences which it afterwards produced to her.
"Juliè immediately understood my meaning; and after several sighs and struggles with herself, burst out into the following expressions—'Oh, Isabelle! what fresh obligations are you every minute loading me with! The generous care you take of my future peace is so much beyond my expectation, that it is impossible for me to thank you in any words adequate to the strong idea I have of your goodness. I am satisfied most women in your case would hate
