CHAP. XI.
Having recommended Adela in the best manner to the abbess, who had shewn her the apartment which she was to inhabit, I went to bid her adieu. Entering the place where she was, she ran to meet me, and rushed into my arms. I had not the heart to reject with contempt the caresses of a woman, whom I had once so ardently loved. This moment was too solemn; I pressed my cheek to her clay-cold face, kissed her eyes and forehead, and said, "compose yourself, my poor wife. Strive to make peace with your own heart, and remember, that though the harmony of innocent love will never be restored between us,—yet I am your only friend, and whatever my heart has once cherished, it can never forget."
—"No, Carlos," returned she, with a faltering voice, "take back your friendship, I want it not. What should I, that could once have quaffed the whole cup of love and hap-
