Alas! Why had not Pauline's mother waited at least till then?

Poor young girl! On the day on which she entered the castle of Ville-
Handry, she had sworn she would bury this love of hers so deep in
the innermost recesses of her heart, that it should never come up and
trouble her thoughts. And she had kept her word.

But now it suddenly broke forth, more ardent, more powerful, than ever,
till it well-nigh overcame her, and crushed her--sweetly and sadly, like
the memory of lost days, and at the same time cruel and heart-rending,
like bitter remorse.

What had become of him? When he had heard that she was going to marry
the count, he had written to her a letter full of despair, in which he
overwhelmed her with irony and contempt. Later, whether he had forgotten
her or not, he also had married; and the two lovers who had once hoped
to pursue their way through life leaning one upon the other now went
each their own way.

For long hours the poor young wife struggled in the solitude of her
chamber against these ghosts of the past which crowded around her. But,
if ever a guilty thought called up a blush on her brow, she quickly
triumphed over it. Like a brave, loyal woman, she renewed her oath, and
swore to devote herself entirely to her husband. He had rescued her from
abject poverty, and bestowed upon her his fortune and his name; and she
owed it to him in return to make him happy.

She needed all her courage, all her energy, to fulfil her vows; for
the count's character lay fully open before her now, after two years of
married life. She knew precisely how narrow his mind was, how empty his