Letters of Two Brides

To which my father replied: "What fools we are! She springs from the Carmelites."

"My child, Mme. de Stael is dead," said my mother gently.

When I finished Adolphe, I asked Miss Griffith how a woman could be

betrayed. "Why, of course, when she loves," was her reply.

Renee, tell me, do you think we could be betrayed by a man?

Miss Griffith has at last discerned that I am not an utter ignoramus,

that I have somewhere a hidden vein of knowledge, the knowledge we

learned from each other in our random arguments. She sees that it is

only superficial facts of which I am ignorant. The poor thing has

opened her heart to me. Her curt reply to my question, when I compare

it with all the sorrows I can imagine, makes me feel quite creepy.

Once more she urged me not to be dazzled by the glitter of society, to

be always on my guard, especially against what most attracted me. This

is the sum-total of her wisdom, and I can get nothing more out of her.

Her lectures, therefore, become a trifle monotonous, and she might be

compared in this respect to the bird which has only one cry.