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 hope to be realised, and she soon threw it aside.

"Unconscious of any crime, unacquainted with D'Alembert almost till the present day, what (she asked herself, trying to reason away her terror), have I to fear from him? nothing on my own account.—(She paused; she mused for a few minutes). But my father—(she trembled, and started)—I know not the mysteries of his life! D'Alembert may not be equally ignorant, and through his heart perhaps intends to aim at mine." The recollected threat of D'Alembert rendered this idea but too probable; and agonies which no tongue could express directly seized her soul.

For some minutes the powers of articulation were suspended. At length, with a deep sigh and uplifted hands, she implored the protection of Heaven. "Trusting in that protection (cried she), which can defeat