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—toujours l'amour. Now I think only of him, and he recalls you and your sweet words. God make you a true prophet! With love to you and the marquis, I kiss each line, praying for happiness for you and for him. Believe me as ever,

"Your affectionate

"Louison.

"P.S. I feel better now I have told you. I wonder what his Lordship will say. Poor thing! he will read this; he will think me a fool. Eh bien, I have no better thought of him. He can put me under lock and key, but he shall not imprison my secrets; and, if they bore him, he should not read my letters. L."

 

I read it thrice, and held it for a moment to my lips. Every word stung me with the sweet pain that afflicted its author. I could feel my cheeks burning.

"Ma'm'selle, pardon me; it is not I she refers to. She does not say whom."

"Surely," said Thérèse, flirting her whip and lifting her shoulders. "M'sieur Le Capitaine is never a stupid man. You—you should say something very nice now."

"If it is I—thank God! Her misery is my delight, her liberation my one purpose."