Nothing, my dear Aza, can surpass the joy which I felt at the return of Deterville, except the seeing you; but surely I am never more to taste unmixed pleasure, or it would not so soon have been followed by a sorrow, which still sensibly affects me.

I was yesterday morning sitting with Celina in my chamber, when somebody coming to whisper her, she went out; she had not been long gone, before I was sent for to the parlour. I ran thither, and how much was I surprised to behold her brother at the gate.

I did not disguise the pleasure I received at seeing him to whom I owe so much. As feelings of this kind are quite agreeable to virtue, I expressed them with all the ardour that I felt.

I saw my deliverer, the only support of my being; I spoke without any restraint of you, of my love, of my designs, and my joy increased even to transports.

Not speaking French when Deterville left us; how many things had I to tell him? how many questions to ask? and how many thanks to return? desirous to say all at once, I spoke bad French, and yet continued to talk on.

During this time I perceived that Deterville changed countenance; the chagrin which I remarked in his face when I entered, disappeared; joy took its place; and I, pleased to give him pleasure, did every thing in my power to increase it. Alas! ought I to have feared giving too much delight to a friend to whom I owe every thing, and from whom I hope every thing? yet my sincerity threw me into an error, which now costs me many tears.

Celina left us as soon as I came in; her presence perhaps might have prevented so cruel an explanation.