She hastily put the papers from her; but the words, which had
roused equally her curiosity and terror, she could not dismiss from her
thoughts. So powerfully had they affected her, that she even could not
resolve to destroy the papers immediately; and the more she dwelt on the
circumstance, the more it inflamed her imagination. Urged by the most
forcible, and apparently the most necessary, curiosity to enquire
farther, concerning the terrible and mysterious subject, to which she
had seen an allusion, she began to lament her promise to destroy the
papers. For a moment, she even doubted, whether it could justly be
obeyed, in contradiction to such reasons as there appeared to be for
further information. But the delusion was momentary.
'I have given a solemn promise,' said she, 'to observe a solemn
injunction, and it is not my business to argue, but to obey. Let me
hasten to remove the temptation, that would destroy my innocence, and
embitter my life with the consciousness of irremediable guilt, while I
have strength to reject it.'
Thus re-animated with a sense of her duty, she completed the triumph
of her integrity over temptation, more forcible than any she had ever
known, and consigned the papers to the flames. Her eyes watched them as
they slowly consumed, she shuddered at the recollection of the sentence
she had just seen, and at the certainty, that the only opportunity of
explaining it was then passing away for ever.
It was long after this, that she recollected the purse; and as she was
depositing it, unopened, in a cabinet, perceiving that it contained
something of a size larger than coin, she examined it. 'His hand
deposited them here,' said she, as she kissed some pieces of the coin,
and wetted them with her tears, 'his hand--which is now dust!' At the
bottom of the purse was a small packet, having taken out which, and
unfolded paper after paper, she found to be an ivory case, containing
the miniature of a--lady! She started--'The same,' said she, 'my father
wept over!' On examining the countenance she could recollect no person
that it resembled. It was of uncommon beauty, and was characterized
by an expression of sweetness, shaded with sorrow, and tempered by
resignation.
St. Aubert had given no directions concerning this picture, nor had even
named it; she, therefore, thought herself justified in preserving
it. More than once remembering his manner, when he had spoken of the
Marchioness of Villeroi, she felt inclined to believe that this was her
resemblance; yet there appeared no reason why he should have preserved a
picture of that lady, or, having preserved it, why he should lament over
it in a manner so striking and affecting as she had witnessed on the
night preceding his departure.