I mean to be courageous for my friend as most women are for the world.

I wish to vary happiness.

I wish to put intelligence into tenderness, and to give piquancy to fidelity.

I am filled with ambition to kill the rivals of the past, to conjure away all outside griefs by a wife's gentleness, by her proud abnegation, to take a lifelong care of the nest,--such as birds can only take for a few weeks.
Tell me, do you now think me to blame for my first letter?
The mysterious wind of will drove me to you, as the tempest brings the little rose-tree to the pollard window.

In your letter, which I hold here upon my heart, you cried out, like your ancestor when he departed for the Crusades, "God wills it." Ah! but you will cry out, "What a chatterbox!" All the people round me say, on the contrary, "Mademoiselle is very taciturn." O.d'Este M..