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 Madame de Boufflers looked—what she was—astounded at this proposition. "What nonsense you are talking to-night," answered she, forcing a laugh.

"You do not love me!" and his clear light eyes flashed upon her with a strange mixture of ferocity and tenderness. She shrank before the glance, and whispered, "If I did not love you, why are you here? but think of the scandal of an elopement; les convenances of society must be respected." "Curse on these social laws! which are made for the convenience of the few and the degradation of the many. Amalie, I cannot, will not steal into the house of that insolent aristocrat, your husband, like a midnight thief. You must leave him, and let my home become yours. I will watch over you,—pass my life at your side,—anticipate your slightest wish,—but you must be mine own. The law for divorce will soon pass the Assembly, and then let me add what tie or form you will to the deep devotion of my heart, my own, my beloved Amalie, as my wife."

"Your wife!" interrupted the countess, old prejudices springing up far stronger than present feelings. "How very absurd; think for a moment of the difference in our rank." A spasm of convulsive emotion passed over his face, the veins rose on the high forehead, the blood started from the bitten lip, but in an instant the expression was subdued into a stern coldness; and if Julian’s voice was somewhat hoarse the words were slow and distinct. "Amalie," said he, taking her hands in his, "my whole destiny turns on the result of this interview. Have you no fear of my despair?" Amalie could have answered that she felt very sufficiently afraid at that moment, but, for once in her life she was at a loss for a reply; she remained silent, almost embarrassed, certainly bored,—and Julian went on. "I will not shock your gentle ear by words of hate against the class to which you belong; but a fearful reckoning is at hand; and I am among those who will exact it to the uttermost. I warn you fly from them—be mine, for your own sake."

"Really, Monsieur Julian," said she, "your conduct tonight is most unaccountable. Come, do pray be a little more amusing." "Monsieur Julian!" repeated he, in a deep whisper; "is it come to this? Amalie, do, I implore you, think how desperately I love you. You may believe that on your part it has been the sacrifice; but what has it been on mine? For your sake I have trifled with rights I hold most sacred; I have tampered with mine own integrity; I have held back from the great task