a beggar through the world, live a neglected slave at his side, than take the fairest portion that Fortune ever yet assigned a favourite. Nay, more:—uncertain as I now am whether his affection may have survived my supposed faithlessness, I would rather preserve the poor privilege of treasuring up his remembrance—of carrying for his sake a wrung but undivided heart to the grave—than aught else that life can offer,—my first, my last, and only love! I cannot even imagine a destiny uncoloured by his influence, or a life undevoted to his idea."
Both were silent. The language of strong passion or deep feeling was strange to Marie; she scarce knew how to answer it. For a moment she yielded to a confused sensation of tenderness and sympathy; but the worldly calculation soon arose. She now felt assured that the Duke would never succeed. Still, habit was all powerful, and she thought within herself, "les absens ont toujours tort." Would not Evelyn's presence be additional security? But how was that to be managed? She must know more. "Have you no means of communicating with Mr. Evelyn?" asked she.
"None," replied Francesca; "never was situation more awkward or more painful than my own. But have you patience to hear the history?"
