cognizable. But the very depth of my tenderness makes me feel at this moment that it has always been the same. It is part of my life, and I am entirely shaken and unhinged in this hour of separation from you. Tonight.... I shall not have in my house the angel that guaranteed it from thunder and fire. I shall not have her who would protect me if I were dying, and would enfold me, before God, with the rays of her sublime soul. I shall not have at every moment news of your health. I foresee regrets at every instant.... I pray that I may be worthy of you. Happiness may come later, at intervals or never. The end of life terminates everything, and you are so sure that there is another life as to leave no doubt in my heart.... Accept, Mamma, my dear Mamma, my profound respect and boundless tenderness."
Perhaps when Madame Necker read this letter, she felt in part consoled for the real or fancied pain which her brilliant and unaccountable daughter had given her.
And in spite of passing dissensions with her mother, Germaine's twenty years of girlhood had been essentially happy, for they had been tenderly and watchfully sheltered from blight or harm.
