“That invincible bar you mentioned, yet made so great a secret of, is at last revealed, and I should be unworthy of the blessing I aspire to, if I were unable to surmount it.  Cruel Louisa! you little know me, or the force of that passion you have inspired, to imagine that any difference which chance may have put between us, can make the least alteration in my sentiments!—­It is to your own perfections I have devoted my heart, not to the merit or grandeur of your ancestors.  What has my love to do with fortune, or with family!—­Does a diamond lose any thing of its intrinsic value for being presented by an unknown, or an obscure hand?—­My eyes convince me of the charms of my adored Louisa; my understanding shews me those of her mind; and if heaven vouchsafes to bless me with so rich a jewel, I never shall examine whence it came.—­If therefore I am not so unhappy as to be hated by you, let not vain punctilloes divide us, and, as the first proof of my inviolable passion, permit me to remove you from a place where you have met with such unworthy treatment:—­I hope you wrong me not so far as to suspect I any other designs on you than such as are consistent with the strictest honour; but to prevent all scruples of that nature from entering your gentle breast, I would wish to place you in a convent, the choice of which shall be your own, provided it may be where I sometimes may be allowed to pay my vows to you thro’ the grate, till time shall have sufficiently proved my fidelity, and you shall prevail on yourself to recempence my flame, by bestowing on me your hand and heart:—­the one I would not ask without the other; but both together would render the happiest of mankind.

Your eternally devoted

Du Plessis.

P.S. As I perceive it will be next to an impossibility to gain a sight of you while you continue with that ungenerous woman, I entreat to know by a line how I stand in your opinion, and if the offers I make you, in the sincerity of my soul, may be thought worthy your acceptance.”

This epistle he ordered his valet de chambre to give to her own hand, if there were a possibility of it; and the fellow so well executed his commission, being acquainted with Melanthe’s servants, that he was carried directly up to her chamber.  She was a little surprized to see him, because she knew it was contrary to Melanthe’s commands that any one should see her; and doubted not but to find she was treated with any kind of respect, would enhance her ill humour to her.  But she said nothing that discovered her sentiments on this point, and with all the appearance of a perfect ease of mind, asked what he had to deliver to her.  Only a song, mademoiselle, answered he, which my master ordered me to give you, and to desire you will let him know how you like it:—­he says it might be turned into an admirable duetto, and begs you would employ your genius on that score and send it by me.