have enjoyed an exquisite pleasure in fulfilling the claim, the sacred claim, which misery has upon compassion."
"Oh, de Sevignie (thought Madeline), how little do you know my heart when you thus reproach me. Your society hateful to me!—alas 'tis infinitely too precious for my peace."
"I am sure (said she, speaking with almost as much agitation as he had done), I am sure—I wish—I should be happy was it in my power, to remove, to lessen any sorrow you may feel."
"You wish—you should be happy—(he repeated in a softened voice, as if touched by her gentleness).—Yes, Madeline (again taking her hand), I am convinced of the sincerity of that wish; and nothing, no, nothing but a degree of madness could have tempted me to reproach you as I have just done;—could have tempted me to ask your pity for feelings which I wished, from principles of honour, gratitude, generosity, to conceal from you. Oh, Madeline, I cannot ask your
