You shall not repent having deposited your woes in a heart, alas! but too sensible.'-' I repent me of it from this moment,' said she with confusion: and both, with downcast eyes, retired in silence from each other. Adelaïde, on quitting Fonrose, thought she saw in his countenance the impression of a profound grief. I have revived,' said she, 'I 'the sense of his sorrows; and what must be their horror, when he thinks himself still more wretched than I!

From that day more sighing and more conversation followed between Fonrose and Adelaïde. They neither sought nor avoided one another: looks of consternation formed almost their only language; if he found her weeping over the grave of her husband, his heart was seized with pity, jealousy, and grief; he contemplated her in silence, and answered her sighs with deep groans.

Two months had passed away in this painful situation, and Adelaïde saw Fonrose's youth wither as a flower. The sorrow which consumed him afflicted her so much the more deeply, as the cause of it was unknown to her. She had not the most distant suspicion that she was the cause of it. However, as it is natural, when two sentiments divide a soul, for one to weaken the other, Adelaïde's regret on account of the death of D'Orestan became less lively every day, in proportion as she delivered herself up to the pity with which Fonrose inspired her. She was very sure that this pity had nothing but what was innocent in it; it did not even come into her head to defend herself from it; and the object of this generous sentiment being continually present to her view, awakened it every instant. The lan guor into which this young man was fallen became such, that she thought it her duty not to leave him any longer to himself. "You are dying,' said she to him, and you add to my griefs that of seeing you consumed with sorrow under my eye, without being able to apply any remedy. If the recital of the imprudences of my youth has not inspired you with a contempt for me; if the purest and tenderest friendship be dear to you: in short, if you would not render me more unhappy than I was before I knew you, confide to me the cause of your griefs: you have no person in the world but myself to assist you in supporting them; your secret, though it were more important than mine, fear not that I shall divulge. The death of my husband has placed a gulf betwixt the world and me; and the confidence which I require will soon be buried in this grave, to which grief is

with slow steps conducting me.' I hope to go before you,' said Fonrose, bursting into tears. 'Suffer me to finish my deplorable life without leaving you afterwards the reproach of having shortened its course.'-'O Heaven, what do I hear,' cried she with distraction. What! I can I have contributed to the evils which overwhelm you? Go on; you pierce my soul! What have I done? what have I said? Alas, I tremble! Good heaven! hast thou sent me =into the world only to create wretches? Speak; nay speak; you must no longer conceal who you are; you have said too much to dissemble any longer.'—'Well, then, I am I am Fonrose, the son of those travellers, whom you filled with admiration and respect. All that they related of your virtues and your charms inspired me with the fatal design of coming to see you in this disguise. I have left my family in the deepest sorrow, thinking they have lost me, and lamenting my death. I have seen you; I know what attaches you to this place; I know that the only hope that is left me, is to die here adoring you. Give me no useless counsel or unjust reproaches. My resolution is as firm and immoveable as your own. If in betraying my secret you disturb the last moments of a life almost at an end, you will to no purpose injure me, who would never offend you.' Adelaïde, confounded, endeavoured to calm the despair into which this young man was plunged. Let me,' said she, do to his parents the service of restoring him to life; let me save their only hope: Heaven presents me with this opportunity of acknowledging their favours.' Thus, far from making him furious by a misplaced rigour, all the tenderness of pity, and consolation of friendship, were put in practice in order to soothe him.

Heavenly angel!' cried Fonrose, I see all the reluctance that you feel to make any one unhappy: your heart is with him who reposes in this grave: I see that nothing can detach you from him; I see how ingenuous your virtue is to conceal your woe from me; I perceive it in all its extent, I am overwhelmed by it, but I pardon you: it is your duty never to love me, it is mine ever to adore you.'

Impatient of executing the design which she had conceived, Adelaïde arrives at her hut. Father,' said she to her old master, do you think you have strength to travel to Turin? I have need of somebody whom I can trust, to give the Marquis and Marchioness of Fonrose the most interesting intelligence.' The old man replied, that his zeal

to serve them inspired him with courage. Go,' resumed Adelaïde, you will find them bewailing the death of their only son; tell them that he is living, and in these parts, and that I will restore him to them; but that there is an indispensable necessity for their coming here themselves to fetch him.'

He sets out, arrives at Turin, sends in his address as the old man of the valley of Savoy. Ah!' cried Madam de Fonrose, some misfortune, perhaps, has happened to our shepherdess. Let him come in,' added the Marquis, he will tell us, perhaps, that she consents to live with us.'— After the loss of my son,' said the Marchioness, it is the only comfort I can taste in this world.' The old man is introduced. He throws himself at their feet; they raise him. You are lamenting the death of your son,' said he; I come to tell you that he lives; our dear child has discovered him in the valley; she sends me to inform you of it; but yourselves only, she says, can bring him back.' As he spoke this, surprise and joy deprived the Marchioness de Fonrose of her senses. The Marquis distracted and amazed, calls out for help for his lady, recalls her to life, embraces the old man, publishes to the whole house that their son is restored to them. The Marchioness resuming her spirits, What shall we do,' said she, taking the old man by the hands, and pressing them with tenderness, what shall we do in gratitude for this benefit which restores life to us?'

Every thing is ordered for their departure. They set out with the good man; they travel night and day, and repair to the valley, where their only good awaits them. The shepherdess was out at pasture: the old woman conducts them to her; they approach. How great is their surprise-their son, that well-beloved son, is by her side in the habit of a simple shepherd! Their hearts sooner than their eyes acknowledge him. Ah, cruel child,' cried his mother, throwing herself into his arms, what sorrow have you occasioned us! why withdraw yourself from our tenderness? and what is it you come here for ?'-' To adore,' said he, 'what you yourself admired.' Pardon me, Madam,' said Adelaïde, while Fonrose embraced his father's knees, who raised him with kindness; 'pardon me for having left you so long in grief: If I had known it sooner, you should have been sooner consoled.' After the first emotions of nature, Fonrose relapsed into the deepest affliction. Let us go,' said the Marquis, let us go

rest ourselves in the hut, and forget all the pain that this young madman has occasioned us.' Yes, Sir, I have been mad,' said Fonrose to his father, who led him by the hand. Nothing but the loss of my reason could have suspended in my heart the emotions of nature, so as to make me forget the most sacred duties; in short, to detach myself from every thing that I held dearest in the world; but this madness you gave birth to, and I am but too severely punished for it. I love without hope the most accomplished person in the world; you see nothing, you know nothing of this incomparable woman; she is honesty, sensibility, virtue itself; I love her even to idolatry, I cannot be happy without her, and I know that she cannot be mine.'- Has she confided to you,' said the Marquis, 'the secret of her birth ?'—' I have learned enough of it,' said Fonrose, 'to assure you, that it is in no respect beneath my own; she has even renounced a considerable fortune to bury herself in this desert.'—' And do you know what has induced her to it?' Yes, Sir, but it is a secret which she alone can reveal to you.'—' She is married perhaps?' She is a widow, but her heart is not the more disengaged; her ties are but too strong.'Daughter,' said the Marquis, on entering the hut, you see that you turn the heads of the whole family of Fonrose. The extravagant passion of this young man cannot be justified, but by such a prodigy as you are. All my wife's wishes are confined to having you for a companion and a friend; this child here will not live, unless he obtains you for his wife; I desire no less to have you for my daughter: see how many persons you will make unhappy by a refusal. Ah, Sir,' said she, your goodness confounds me, but hear and judge for me.' Then Adelaïde, in the presence of the old man and his wife, made a recital of her deplorable adventure. She added the name of her family, which was not unknown to the Marquis de Fonrose, and ended by calling on himself to witness the inviolable fidelity she owed her spouse. At these words consternation spread itself into every countenance. Young Fonrose, choked with sobs, threw himself into a corner of the hut, in order to give them free scope. The father, moved at the sight, flew to the assistance of his son. 'See,' said he," my dear Adelaïde, to what a condition you have reduced him!' Madam de Fonrose, who was near Adelaïde, pressed her in her arms, bathing her at the same time with tears. Alas! why, my daughter,' said she, why will you a second time

make us mourn the death of our dear child?' The old man and his wife, their eyes filled with tears, and fixed upon Adelaïde, waited her speaking. Heaven is my witness,' said Adelaïde, rising, that I would lay down my life in gratitude for such goodness. It would heighten my misfortunes to have occasion to reproach myself with yours: but I am willing that Fonrose himself should be my judge; suffer me, if you please, to speak to him for a moment.' Then retiring with him alone: Fonrose,' said she, you know what sacred ties retain me in this place. If I could cease to love and lament a husband who loved me but too well, I should be the most despicable of women. Esteem, friendship, gratitude, are the sentiments I owe you; but none of these can cancel love: the more you have conceived for me, the more you should expect from me; it is the impossibility of fulfilling that duty, that hinders my imposing it on myself. At the same time I see you in a situation that would move the least sensible heart; it is shocking to me to be the cause, it would be still more shocking to me to hear your parents accuse me with having been your destruction. I will forget myself, then, for the present, and leave you, as far as in me lies, to be the arbiter of our destiny. It is for you to choose that of the two situations which appears to you least painful; either to renounce me, to subdue yourself, and forget me, or to possess a woman, whose heart being full of another object, can only grant you sentiments too feeble to satisfy the wishes of a lover.'. That is enough,' said Fonrose ; and in a soul like yours, friendship should take place for love. I shall be jealous, without doubt, of the tears which you shall bestow on the memory of another husband: but the cause of that jealousy, in rendering you more respectable, will render you also more dear in my eyes.'

She is mine!' said he, coming and throwing himself into the arms of his parents; it is to her respect for you, to your goodness, that I owe her, and it is owing you a second life.' From that moment their arms were chains from which Adelaïde could not disengage herself.

Did she yield only to pity, to gratitude? I would fain believe it, in order to admire her the more: Adelaïde believed so herself. However it be, before she set out, she would revisit the tomb which she quitted but with regret. O, my dear D'Orestan,' said she, if from the womb of the dead thou canst read the bottom of my soul, thy shade