Et que le monde entend, mais qu’il ne parle pas.’”[[11]]

You perceive, dear Kate, that I want to make you acquainted with the doctor. But good-night.

August 22, 1869.

Well, dearest, the marriage is arranged. Let me, however, first speak to you about Picciola. She is an angel! She invariably forgets herself, and thinks only of the happiness of others. It is she who organizes our festivities. Dear, delicious child! Thérèse and Anna know not how to show her tenderness enough. I forget what day it was that Marcella said to me: “I think that now I need not be any longer uneasy about my child’s health; there has been no change since that beneficial winter.” Picciola was by me. I looked at her; her eyes shone with a singular brightness, and she said almost involuntarily, and so low that I alone heard her: “Oh! she will be no longer ill.“ Marianne was right: there is a mystery in this, and I want to know what it is. I shall question Mad; she will not resist me. I have entreated the doctor to cure her, and his answer was: “Who can arrest the flight of the bird?“ Thus all is in vain; and yet, in spite of myself, I have moments of wild hope. What a large place this child has taken possession of in my heart!

M. de V. had placed his interests in my hands; it was therefore your Georgina herself who renewed his proposal. At the first word Marcella, much moved, formally refused, begging me to speak to her of something else. Then we had a long explanation. This dear and excellent friend did not want to separate herself from us, out of gratitude! And she was sacrificing her heart; for the devotedness and high character of M. de V. inspire her with as much sympathy as respect. It needed all my eloquence to convince her. In accepting she secures her daughter a protector; the increase of her fortune will allow her still more latitude for the exercise of her benevolence. I know that she loves Italy, and dreams of seeing it again, which would be impossible were she to remain with us; by refusing she crushes out the life of M. de V., etc., etc.

By way of conclusion I drew her into my mother’s room, where we also found René and Edouard, and all four of us together succeeded in obtaining her consent. All, then, is well as regards this matter. Anna is in a state of incomparable joy, as the old books say. We are all happy at the turn affairs have taken, but each in our different degrees. And you, dear Kate? Ah! news of Ireland and again of Edith: Mary is not well. Poor Edith! Good-by, dearest; René calls me, and I must send to the post.

August 25, 1869.

Yesterday’s fête was admirable, according to the doctor, who is a good judge. How impatient he is to carry off Marcella from us! The wedding is fixed for the 20th of September, and the same day the happy couple are to start for Italy. Thus I have not even a month in which to enjoy the society of this delightful friend, so truly the sister of my soul, whom God gave me almost on the grave of Ellen. I busy myself with her about the preparations. Gertrude, the austere Gertrude, sets out to-morrow for Paris with Adrien and M. de V., whom she will direct in the choice of the corbeille. Don’t you admire that? Marcella is calm, serious, but also, she owns to me, profoundly happy.

There will be no more meeting again, I foresee plainly; they will cast anchor down there, but our spirits will be always united before God. Margaret greatly rejoices in the happiness of our dear Roman. Lord William arrived yesterday, and joyous parties are going on. The little angel of the good God is always on the point of taking her flight.

Ah! mon âme voudrait se suspendre à ses ailes