say whether I have deserved to lose the affection of my wife."
"Oh! Count," cried Eugenia, the tears no longer restrained from dropping on her face, "ever beloved of my heart, spare the unkind reproach: Hear me, Sir," added she to Ferdinand, "you have candour, you will judge me fairly. You know our story, you know I had vowed never to marry the Count without my father's consent: I did more, at his command I accompanied the Baron to the altar. Ah! was I not guilty of sacrilege, of profanation, when I uttered with my lips vows I rejected in my heart? Say they were compelled, could that excuse my subsequent conduct? Passion blinded me to the impropriety of my intentions; I ought never to have approached the altar, or when I had done so, I should have fulfilled my vows; my father's prejudice, or cruelty, could be no excuse for my depravity:—Heaven approved not of my broken vows, and Heaven was pleased to punish me; but
