passion and the continual fright she was in, lest by any accident she should discover it, threw her into that lingering illness which I have before mentioned.
"The good-nature of the Chevalier Dumont, with his friendship for the Marquis de Stainville, led him to use his utmost endeavours to amuse and divert her; besides, there is always a higher respect paid by every man to such beauty as Dorimene's than what other women meet with. This, with the melancholy which then possessed him on my account, sometimes inclined her to flatter herself that their passion was reciprocal; but then, in a moment, the utmost horror succeeded, and she resolved rather to die than sacrifice her virtue, or be guilty of the least treachery to such a husband. This was the reason she so often entreated to be alone; for every fresh view of Dumont served only to increase her agony, and at that time she heartily wished to fly the sight of him for ever.
"All my brother's assiduous cares to please her only aggravated her sorrows, as they continually loaded her with reproaches for not returning such uncommon, such tender love. However, while she remained often alone, and her resolution enabled her to deny herself the pleasure of seeing the Chevalier as much as was possible without being rude, she fancied, whatever she suffered, she should command herself enough not to transgress the bounds of decency or the laws of virtue.
"But one evening, when the Marquis prevailed on her by great entreaties to suffer us all to stay with her, hoping by that means to dissipate her melancholy, and make her more cheerful, her watchfnl eyes (although we had never any otherwise than by I our looks disclosed it to each other) found out the secret of our love. This overset all her resolutions; and from that moment her torment was so great, whenever she thought we had an opportunity of
