“When I wished to retire into a convent, you remember how angry you were with me?” A tear trembled in the eye of the invalid. “Well,” continued Valentine, “the reason of my proposing it was that I might escape this hateful marriage, which drives me to despair.” Noirtier’s breathing came thick and short.

“Then the idea of this marriage really grieves you too? Ah, if you could but help me⁠—if we could both together defeat their plan! But you are unable to oppose them⁠—you, whose mind is so quick, and whose will is so firm are nevertheless, as weak and unequal to the contest as I am myself. Alas, you, who would have been such a powerful protector to me in the days of your health and strength, can now only sympathize in my joys and sorrows, without being able to take any active part in them. However, this is much, and calls for gratitude, and Heaven has not taken away all my blessings when it leaves me your sympathy and kindness.”

At these words there appeared in Noirtier’s eye an expression of such deep meaning that the young girl thought she could read these words there: “You are mistaken; I can still do much for you.”