He must, then—­and there was yet time—­resign his fortune, and accept Sophie and a clear conscience, poverty and a country parish.  But persons who have wealth absolutely in their power, to take or to leave, sec clearly how much poetical extravagance, hypocrisy, and cant exist in the arguments of those who advocate the beauties and advantages of being poor.  Deliberately and voluntarily to forego the opportunities, the influence, the ease, the refinement, which money alone can command—­let not the sacrifice be underrated!  Few, perhaps, have had the choice fairly offered them:  of those, how many have chosen poverty?  In Bressant’s case, the fact that the money was not legally his, was, abstractly, enough to settle the matter; but in real life, where every one is expected to do battle for his claims, it would only be an argument for holding on the harder.  If he could but manage to be happily married and wealthy both!  He would not confess it impossible; at all events, he would delay the confession till the very latest hour, and then trust to the impulse of the moment for his final decision and action.  He had given up, it seemed, that promising idea of trusting to the generosity of the rightful owner; yet, considering their mutual relation, and one or two minor circumstances, he might certainly do so without misgiving, embarrassment, or dishonor.

“It’s that infernal letter!” muttered the young man between his teeth, staring gloomily out at the cheerless snow-storm.  “I wish it had never been written.  No! that I could feel sure there was no truth in it.”

Turning from the window, he stepped over to the table, and dropped himself into his chair.  He took from his pocket a well-worn envelope, hardly capable of holding on to the inclosed letter, which peeped forth at the corners, and through various rents in the front and back.  He did not open it, for he had long known by heart every word and italic in it; but, placing it in front of him, he leaned upon his elbows, with his forehead resting between his hands, and gazed fixedly down upon it.  It is an assistance to the vividness of thought to have some object in sight connected with the matter under consideration.

“Ought I to have answered it?” ran his soliloquy:  for though he had frequently taken counsel with himself concerning this letter before, he recurred again and again to the subject, pleasing himself with the hope that still, in some way, a fortunate ray of light might be struck out; “but, if I had, what should I have gained by it?  It’s as well not to have risked putting any thing on paper; and if she really has the proofs she talks about, I shall hear from her again, and soon, for she knows which is my wedding-day; and it must all be decided, one way or another, before then.  But she couldn’t have made the assertion if she hadn’t known some good grounds for it; and yet I can’t understand it—­I cannot.”  He pressed his temples strongly between his hands, and chewed his