"And your aunt is ignorant of this?"
"Listen—the hour is come to disclose every thing to you. I had been, as you know, brought up with Raphael. When a child, I loved him as a brother; as a young girl, as my betrothed husband; or, rather, these two sentiments united themselves into one. You were then young and giddy, and our mutual affection, no doubt, escaped you."
"Why, to tell you the truth, godmother, now I remember some circumstances which ought to have enlightened me on that subject. But is it possible—is Raphael dead? And when and where did this happen?"
"Listen. I was to hare been married to him on my return to Florence. You may now comprehend why M. de Brévannes inspired me with so much aversion."
"I understand."
"His pursuit of me redoubled. Informed of our residence in Florence, he, by dint of perseverance and encouragement, contrived to form a connexion with those persons who would be of so much service to my aunt in her process, and obtained such influence with them, that he was very soon in a position to be of the greatest possible use to us.
"His way thus cleared, he one day boldly announced himself at my aunt's under the plea of lodging in the same hôtel. Our reception of him was very chilling, but the man soon proved himself so insinuating, such a flatterer, and so clearly shewed my aunt how greatly he could aid the progress of her suit, that she begged him to visit us as frequently as he pleased. As he left the room, he cast at me a very significant look. He had only done this in order to be able to approach me.
"I told my aunt all my suspicions, and her reply was that I was crazy; that it was requisite we should avail ourselves of M. de Brévannes' kind offices, since he could be so advantageous to us. You know my aunt had been very handsome, and at this time she was only forty years of age. M. de Brévannes saw one day that she took in earnest some little gallantries which he addressed to her in jest. He increased his attentions, so that, in a very short time, she could really not do without him. He accompanied us every where, walking, or to the theatre. I remarked to my aunt that he was young and rich, and that this intimacy might compromise me. She then told me, with as much joy as pride, that I was quite wrong to alarm myself. She was a widow and free; M. de Brévannes had avowed his love for her, adding that he only took so deep an interest in our lawsuit because it gave him an opportunity of being so constantly near her. I wished to make some observations to my aunt, but she would not even allow me to finish them, but broke out into a tirade as to the vanity of young girls, and reproached me with ever having believed for a moment that M. de Brévannes bestowed a thought on me. He saw us every day, often sent minstrels under our windows, and continually presented us with similar bouquets, in order (as he told my aunt) that my self-love might not be wounded.
"One day, finding me alone, he made me a declaration of love, considering as a merit in my eyes the ability with which he had deceived my aunt, and taken off from me the gaze of the world by appearing smitten with her, and for this enormous sacrifice he considered I should admire and feel kindly disposed towards him."
"And was your aunt informed of this avowal of Charles de Brévannes?"