and so devoted? No, no! Nature casts but few in the same mould as mine! But tell me this, at least; have you ever thought of that loving heart with regret? How far am I to rely on this revival of affection which has brought you back to-day to console it? You are more beautiful than ever—that I see only too well; but, in the name of all the pangs I have suffered for your sake, tell me, Manon, my lovely girl, whether you will be more constant also?"
She replied with such pathetic expressions of her penitence, and pledged herself to constancy by such earnest vows and protestations, that I was moved beyond all words.
"Dearest Manon," I said to her, with a profane mingling of the phrases of love and of theology, "you are a divinity; no created being could inspire such adoration as I feel for you! My heart is swelling with triumph and beatitude. Let them talk of free-will as they please at St. Sulpice, 'tis but a chimera! I am going to sacrifice fortune and reputation for your sake; I foresee it plainly; I read my destiny in your bright eyes; but where is the sacrifice for which your love would not richly compensate me? I care nothing for the favors of fortune; glory seems to me but an idle vapor; all my projects of a life devoted to the service of the Church were vain imagin-
