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 her mind, that her limbs had hardly strength to carry her. As soon as she was come near enough for him to see her, he got up, made her a respectful bow, and walked towards her. He began to talk to her on some indifferent subject; but she did not seem to hear what he said; on the contrary, she suddenly made a full stop, and stared so wildly round her, that poor Dumont began to be frightened, and asked her if she was ill. She made him no answer, but fixed her eyes on the ground, as if she had not the power to move them; like a criminal, all pale, trembling, and confused, she stood before him. It was in vain for her to endeavour to give her thoughts a vent, for her body was too weak to bear the violent combustion of her mind, and she fainted away at his feet. He immediately caught her up in his arms, and called out for help; but the house was so far distant, that before he could be heard she came to herself again, and in a weak low voice begged him to carry her to the grotto; where, as soon as she was seated, for want of strength to speak, she burst into tears. The good-natured Dumont saw her mind was labouring with something too big for utterance, and entreated her to tell him if she had any affliction that he could be so happy to remove; for that the Marquis de Stainville's lady might command him to the utmost of his power; nor should he think his life too great a sacrifice to serve the woman in whom all the happiness of his friend was centred. "Dorimene now had gone so far, she resolved, whatever it cost her, to lay open all her grief to the Chevalier; and after a little pause, replied, 'Oh! take care what you say; for to remove the torment I now daily endure, and ease me of all those agonies which work me to distraction, you must sacrifice what, perhaps, is dearer to you than your life; you must give up Isabelle, you must forget the Marquis de Stainville was ever your friend—And, oh! how