her heart so deeply, that unless I could contrive some method of making him easy, it would occasion her relapsing into all her former illness; for that while she saw Vieuville so miserable, it was impossible for her ever to recover. She took all opportunities of leaving us together; but, notwithstanding his agreeableness, it was persecution to me to hear him talk of love; nor could I think of anything but what the Chevalier must necessarily suffer whenever he knew we were together. I often condemned myself for not having before confessed my love for Dumont to my brother, and asked his consent to have been for ever joined to his friend. I had no reason to suspect he would not have granted it; for I had experience enough of him to know he was not of a temper to have made us both unhappy for any gratification of his own vanity; but I could never bring myself to it, unless Dumont had made some open declaration of his love. I knew it was now in vain; for the Marquis de Stainville was so excessively fond of his wife, that to have given me to another in open defiance of her brother, while she persisted in saying it would make her miserable, was utterly impossible for him ever to consent to.
"Dumont's great modesty and bad opinion of himself blinded him so far, that he did not even see how much I preferred him in my choice to Vieuville. He sometimes indeed fancied I saw his love, and pitied him; but as it is usual for most men to have a good opinion of the woman they like, he only imputed it to the general compassion of my temper. In short, he could not bear to be a witness of my consenting to be another's; and yet, when he looked at my lover, or heard his conversation, he did not doubt but that must be the case; he therefore resolved to quit the place where he soon expected to see his misery completed.
"He made an excuse to the Marquis that he had
