up, and signed by the good Abbe."—"Have you, indeed?" answered he with surprise, strongly marked in his countenance,—"I am rejoiced to hear it; I hope you take great care of it." "Most certainly," I returned, "I keep it in my little ivory cabinet, presented to me at the convent, and lock that safely in my escritoire."—"That's right, my love, we may one day find it necessary to produce so unequivocal a proof of our marriage." He then changed the subject, and sought to amuse me by repeating some entertaining anecdotes, that he remarked in his travels. Two days after this event, a messenger came from the late Abbe's, with a letter to the Count, which he had left orders should be forwarded to him for his friend the Count; as we still retained the name of Sultsbach.
I trembled at the sight of this letter, and absolutely gasped for breath whilst he perused it. I watched the turn of his countenance, and saw it promised no good to me.—"Tell me," I cried, "what answer has your
