No! the lady had been her friend from her girlhood, was as familiar
with her as if they had been sisters--knew her positively to be as good,
as innocent, as incapable of hating anybody, as the greatest saint
that ever lived. My one last hope, that I had only felt an ordinary
forewarning of danger in the presence of an ordinary enemy,
was a hope destroyed for ever. There was one more effort I could make,
and I made it. I went next to the man whom I am to marry.
I implored him to release me from my promise. He refused.
I declared I would break my engagement. He showed me letters
from his sisters, letters from his brothers, and his dear friends--
all entreating him to think again before he made me his wife;
all repeating reports of me in Paris, Vienna, and London,
which are so many vile lies. "If you refuse to marry me," he said,
"you admit that these reports are true--you admit that you are afraid
to face society in the character of my wife." What could I answer?
There was no contradicting him--he was plainly right: if I persisted
in my refusal, the utter destruction of my reputation would be the result.
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