"I had so fixed my heart upon her,
That wheresoe'er I fram'd a scheme of life
For time to come, she was my only joy,
With which I used to sweeten future cares;
I fancy'd pleasures, none but one who loves
And doats as I did, can imagine like them." Otway.
Friday, March 14th.
To-day Joseph received a letter from Monsieur Vinet in reply to one he wrote, stating the time of our leaving for Paris. He writes that he will accompany Adele to Nice a day or two before that time, as she has a strong desire to become acquainted with persons of whom she has heard so much from her friend, Monsieur Morgan. For a few days past, I have noticed that Pauline remained more in the room when Joseph was conversing with the Doctor, and when thinking herself unnoticed, her attention became absorbed, and her eyes flashed, while the color came and went, giving her beautiful countenance a most bewitching variety of expression.
But if cousin happened to turn his eye in that direction, though the rich bloom on her cheek might assume a deeper tinge, yet the long silky fringes instantly drooped over her tell-tale eyes. I am sometimes almost vexed with Joseph. If he took half the pains to win her confidence that he did formerly, this reserve and coolness might be exchanged for the most delightful friendship. I wonder if he ever thinks of his request when she was a baby, that I would train her for him. If he does, it is only to laugh at the follies of his youth. But I suppose what Frank suspects may be true; that he is attached to Adele. She will be here shortly, and we shall see.
Tuesday, March 18th.