seem to read, as to be often obliged to peruse certain passages over again, in order not to lose the sense.
Meanwhile I had leisure enough to examine the features of my wife's countenance. They became brighter and serener, the more she went on reading. Tenderness, love, and candor beamed in her eyes, and at the conclusion of the letter a big tear trickled down her face. She would not even turn away to hide it from me, but let it drop on the letter, which she once more fervently kissed.
—"Do you come straight from Alcantara, my good friend?" asked she putting the letter in her bosom.
—"Yes, Madam, I came with letters from the Governor, my master, for the archbishop of this place."
—"Do you know the Marquis de Grandez?"
—"Who should not know such a benevolent man? He always wishes to see every body happy."
These words affected her. "You are right,"
