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Bingen, on the Rhine, May 19.--Letters from Devonshire at last,

which relieve my wretchedness in some small degree. The frightful



misfortune at Brussels will at least be kept secret, so far as I

am concerned. Beaupark House is shut up, and the servants are



dismissed, "in consequence of my residenceabroad." To Father

Newbliss I have privately written. Not daring to tell him the



truth, I leave him to infer that my marriage engagement has been

broken off, he writes back a kind and comforting letter. Time



will, I suppose, help me to bear my sad lot. Perhaps a day may

come when Stella and her friends will know how cruelly they have



wronged me.

London, November 18,1860.--The old wound has been opened again. I



met her accidentally in a picture gallery. She turned deadly

pale, and left the place. Oh, Stella! Stella!



London, August 12, 1861.--Another meeting with her. And another

shock to endure, which I might not have suffered if I had been a



reader of the marriage announcements in the newspapers. Like

other men, I am in the habit of leaving the marriage



announcements to the women.

I went to visit an agreeable new acquaintance, Mr. Romayne. His



wife drove up to the house while I was looking out of window. I

recognized Stella! After two years, she has made use of the



freedom which the law has given to her. I must not complain of

that, or of her treating me like a stranger, when her husband



innocently introduced us. But when are were afterward left

together for a few minutes--no! I cannot write down the merciless



words she said to me. Why am I fool enough to be as fond of her

as ever?



Beaupark, November 16.--Stella's married life is not likely to be

a happy one. To-day's newspaper announces the conversion of her



husband to the Roman Catholic Faith. I can honestly say I am

sorry for her, knowing how she has suffered, among her own



relatives, by these conversions. But I so hate him, that this

proof of his weakness is a downrightconsolation to me.



Beaupark, January 27, 1862.--A letter from Stella, so startling

and deplorable that I cannot remain away from her after reading



it. Her husband has deliberately deserted her. He has gone to

Rome, to serve his term of probation for the priesthood. I travel



to London by to-day's train.

London, January 27.--Short as it is, I looked at Stella's letter



again and again on the journey. The tone of the closing sentences

is still studiously cold. After informing me that she is staying



with her mother in London, she concludes her letter in these

terms:



"Be under no fear that the burden of my troubles will be laid on

your shoulders. Since the fatal day when we met at Ten Acres, you



have shown forbearance and compassion toward me. I don't stop to

inquire if you are sincere--it rests with you to prove that. But



I have some questions to ask, which no person but you can answer.

For the rest, my friendless position will perhaps plead with you



not to misunderstand me. May I write again?"

Inveterate distrust in every sentence! If any other woman had



treated me in this way, I should have put her letter into the

fire, and should not have stirred from my comfortable house.



January 29.--A day missed out of my Diary. The events of

yesterday unnerved me for the time.



Arriving at Derwent's Hotel on the evening of the 27th, I sent a

line to Stella by messenger, to ask when she could receive me.



It is strange how the merest trifles seem to touch women! Her

note in reply contains the first expression of friendly feeling



toward me which has escaped her since we parted at Brussels. And

this expression proceeds from her ungovernable surprise and



gratitude at my taking the trouble to travel from Devonshire to

London on her account!



For the rest, she proposed to call on me at the hotel the next

morning. She and her mother, it appeared, differed in opinion on



the subject of Mr. Romayne's behavior to her; and she wished to

see me, in the first instance, unrestrained by Mrs. Eyrecourt's



interference.




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