deformity!  Poor Agricola! poor brother! goodness is sometimes as blind as malice, I see.  Should I hate this young girl?—­Why?  Did she deprive me of the beauty which charms Agricola?  Can I find fault with her for being beautiful?  When I was not yet accustomed to the consequences of my ugliness, I asked myself, with bitter curiosity, why the Creator had endowed his creatures so unequally.  The habit of pain has allowed me to reflect calmly, and I have finished by persuading myself, that to beauty and ugliness are attached the two most noble emotions of the soul—­admiration and compassion.  Those who are like me admire beautiful persons—­such as Angela, such as Agricola—­and these in their turn feel a couching pity for such as I am.  Sometimes, in spite of one’s self, one has very foolish hopes.  Because Agricola, from a feeling of propriety had never spoken to me of his love affairs, I sometimes persuaded myself that he had none—­that he loved me, and that the fear of ridicule alone was with him, as with me, an obstacle in the way of confessing it.  Yes, I have even made verses on that subject—­and those, I think, not the worst I have written.

“Mine is a singular position!  If I love, I am ridiculous; if any love me, he is still more ridiculous.  How did I come so to forget that, as to have suffered and to suffer what I do?—­But blessed be that suffering, since it has not engendered hate—­no; for I will not hate this girl—­I will Perform a sister’s part to the last; I will follow the guidance of my heart; I have the instinct of preserving others—­my heart will lead and enlighten me.  My only fear is, that I shall burst into tears when I see her, and not be able to conquer my emotion.  Oh, then! what a revelation to Agricola—­a discovery of the mad love he has inspired!—­Oh, never! the day in which he knew that would be the last of my life.  There would then be within me something stronger than duty—­the longing to escape from shame—­that incurable shame, that burns me like a hot iron.  No, no; I will be calm.  Besides, did I not just now, when with him bear courageously a terrible trial?  I will be calm.  My personal feelings must not darken the second sight, so clear for those I love.  Oh! painful—­painful task! for the fear of yielding involuntarily to evil sentiments must not render me too indulgent toward this girl.  I might compromise Agricola’s happiness, since my decision is to guide his choice.  Poor creature that I am.  How I deceive myself!  Agricola asks my advice, because he thinks that I shall have not the melancholy courage to oppose his passion; or else he would say to me:  ’No matter—­I love; and I brave the future!’

“But then, if my advice, if the instincts of my heart, are not to guide him—­if his resolution is taken beforehand—­of what use will be to morrow’s painful mission?  Of what use?  To obey him.  Did he not say—­’Come!’ In thinking of my devotion for him, how many times, in the secret depths of my heart, I have asked myself if the thought had ever occurred to him to love me otherwise than as a sister; if it had ever struck him, what a devoted wife he would have in me!  And why should it have occurred to him?  As long as he wished, as long as he may still wish, I have been, and I shall be, as devoted to him, as if I were his wife, sister, or mother.  Why should he desire what he already possesses?