Shall I have strength enough to bear this excess of happiness?
I have a soul for grief, shall I have one for joy?
Oh! my adored one, oh! my precious child, fear nothing, my heart is vast, enough to love you both! I set out to-morrow for Naples, from whence I shall write to you at length.

Happen what may, however, though I should have to sacrifice the important interests confided to me, I shall be in Paris for the critical hour.

My presence will double your courage; the strength of my love will diminish your sufferings.'" "I beg your pardon for interrupting you, Noel," said old Tabaret, "do you know what important affairs detained your father abroad ?" "My father, my old friend," replied the advocate, "was, in spite of his youth, one of the friends, one of the confidants, of Charles X.; and he had been entrusted by him with a secret mission to Italy.

My father is Count Rheteau de Commarin." "Whew!" exclaimed the old fellow; and the better to engrave the name upon his memory, he repeated several times, between his teeth, "Rheteau de Commarin." For a few minutes Noel remained silent.

After having appeared to do everything to control his resentment, he seemed utterly dejected, as though he had formed the determination to attempt nothing to repair the injury he had sustained.
"In the middle of the month of May, then," he continued, "my father is at Naples.