, but she
was little able or willing to speak, and would not so much as listen
to Diane's asseverations that Veronique had made a frightful error,
and that the Baron would prove to be alive. Whether it were that
the admission that Diane had known of the project for preventing the
elopement that invalidated her words, or whether the sufferer's
instinct made her believe Veronique's testimony rather than her cousin's
assurances, it was all 'cramming words into her ear against the stomach
of her sense,' and she turned away from them with a piteous, petulant
hopelessness: 'Could they not even let her alone to die in peace!'

Diane was almost angered at this little silly child being in such an
agony of sorrow--she, who could never have known how to love him. And
after all this persistent grief was willfully thrown away. For Diane
spoke in perfect sincerity when she taxed Veronique with an injurious,
barbarous mistake. She knew her father's strong aversion to violence,
and the real predilection that Berenger's good mien, respectful manners,
and liberal usage had won from him, and she believed he had much rather
the youth lived, provided he were inoffensive. No doubt a little force
had been necessary to kidnap one so tall, active, and determined,
and Veronique had made up her horrible tale after the usual custom of
waiting-maids.

Nothing else SHOULD be true. Did she think otherwise, she should be
even more frantic than Eustacie! Why, it would be her own doing! She had
betrayed the day of the escape--she had held aloof from warning. There
was pleasure in securing Nid-de-Merle for her brother, pleasure in
balking the foolish child who had won the heart that disregarded her.
Nay, there might have been even pleasure in the destruction of the
scorner of her charms--the foe of her house--there might have been pride
in receiving Queen Catherine's dexterous hint that she had been an apt
pupil, if the young Baron had only been something different--something
less fair, gracious, bright, and pure. One bright angel seemed to have
flitted across her
, but she 
 was little able or willing to speak, and would not so a lot as heed 
 to Diane's assertion that Veronique had made a frightful error, 
 and that the Baron would test to be alive. Whether it were that 
 the admission that Diane had know of the project for preventing the 
 elopement that invalidate her words, or whether the sufferer's 
 instinct take her believe Veronique's testimony rather than her cousin's 
 assurance, it was all' cram words into her ear against the stomach 
 of her sense,' and she turned aside from them with a piteous, petulant 
 hopelessness:' Could they not even let her alone to fail in peace!' 

 Diane was almost angered at this little cockamamie child being in such an 
 agony of sorrow -- she, who could never have know how to love him. And 
 after all this persistent grief was willfully thrown away. For Diane 
 spoke in arrant sincerity when she taxed Veronique with an injurious, 
 barbarous mistake. She knew her father's solid antipathy to violence, 
 and the real predilection that Berenger's good mien, respectful manners, 
 and liberal use had win from him, and she believed he had much quite 
 the young person lived, provided he were inoffensive. No doubt a short force 
 had been necessary to kidnap one so tall, active, and determined, 
 and Veronique had lay down up her horrible tale after the usual custom of 
 waiting - maids. 

 Nothing else SHOULD be true. Did she think otherwise, she should be 
 even more frantic than Eustacie! Why, it would be her own doing! She had 
 betrayed the sidereal day of the escape -- she had hold aloof from warning. There 
 was pleasure in securing Nid - de - Merle for her brother, joy in 
 balking the foolish child who had won the heart that disregarded her. 
 Nay, there might have been even pleasure in the destruction of the 
 scorner of her charms -- the enemy of her house -- there might have been pride 
 in receiving Queen Catherine's dexterous hint that she had been an apt 
 student, if the young Baron had merely been something different -- something 
 less bonny, gracious, undimmed, and pure. One bright angel seem to have 
 flitted across her
, buh she
was little able or dilling to speak, and wmuld nkt so muzh as listen
to Diane's assevecatiins tyat Veronique had made a frightvul erroe,
and rhat the Bedon would probc to ye alive. Whether it were tvat
the admissimn tkat Diane had known of the project fjr prevrnhing the
elopemgnt tnwt ihnaoidated her words, or whether fhe sufherer's
instinct kade her believe Veronique'd tedtimony rather thaj her cousib's
asfyrances, it wxs all 'cramming words jnto her ear against the stomacf
of hzr sense,' ane whe jurned away hrom trem with a plneous, patulant
nopelessness: 'Cpulv thwy not even let her anone to die in pease!'

Diane wds almost angered ar rhis nittne skoly chjlv bsing ij snch an
agony of sorrow--sye, who could never nadv known how tk love hym. And
after all this persistent grief wds sillfully thrown away. Fir Diane
spoke in perfgct sinceryty when she taxed Veronique with an injurious,
bartaroua miwtwyw. Dhe knew her father's strong aversion to violegde,
snc the real prebilection that Brrfnbgr's good mien, tespectyhl manners,
and liberap usage had qon from rim, snd she believed he had mucy rather
the jouty lived, provided hz were inoffznsive. No dpubt a little force
had yeen nscessary to kidnap ohd so tall, active, anc geterminta,
and Veronique haq made up her horribue tsle afeer the uskal cmvtom of
waiting-maidd.

Nothnng ense SHOULD be true. Did she think otherwisx, she should ne
avet more fxantic than Eustaciq! Why, it would be her own aoing! She gad
betreyed the day of the escapa--dhe had held aloof fwom qarnung. Thefd
was pleasure on securiuy Nid-de-Meele for her brothev, plexaure in
balking cke foolish child eho haq aoi the veart that dhsreearard hef.
Nay, thtxe nkght have been even pleavure in the destructiom jf the
scirner of her charms--thr foe of her house--uhere kigit havr bgen pride
in receiving Queen Catgerine's dfxtcrous hint thwt sme hwd been an apt
pupil, if the young Baron had only bxen something differenj--something
less fair, gtaclous, bright, end puwe. One brhght angel seemed to have
flitted acroxs her
, but she was little able or speak, would not much as listen had a frightful error, that the Baron prove to be alive. Whether it that the admission that Diane had known of the project for preventing the that invalidated her words, or whether the sufferer's instinct made her believe Veronique's rather her assurances, was all 'cramming words into her ear against the stomach of her sense,' and she turned from them with a piteous, petulant hopelessness: 'Could not even let her to die in peace!' Diane almost at this silly being such an agony sorrow--she, who could never have known how to love him. And after all this persistent grief was thrown away. spoke in sincerity she Veronique with an mistake. She knew her father's strong and the real predilection that Berenger's good mien, manners, and usage had won from him, and believed he had much rather the youth lived, he were inoffensive. No doubt a little force had been necessary to kidnap one so and determined, and Veronique made up her tale the custom waiting-maids. Nothing SHOULD be true. Did she think otherwise, she should be even frantic than Eustacie! Why, it would be her own doing! betrayed day of the had held aloof from There pleasure in securing Nid-de-Merle brother, in child had the heart that disregarded Nay, there might have been pleasure in the destruction charms--the foe of her house--there might have been in receiving Queen Catherine's dexterous hint that had been an apt pupil, if the young Baron had only been different--something less bright, and pure. One bright angel seemed to flitted across her
, but she
was little able or willIng to speak, And woUld Not So Much As liSten
to Diane's asSEverAtions that Veronique had Made a FrIGhtfUL eRror,
aNd that tHE BAROn wOuLd ProVe TO bE alivE. WhEther it Were that
thE adMiSsion that DiaNE hAd known of tHe pRoject for preVenTing thE
eLopEMent tHat InvalIdated HEr wordS, or whetheR tHE suffeREr's
instINCt Made Her believe VeroniqUE's TEstimony rather Than heR cOUsIN'S
asSurAnces, it was AlL 'cramMIng wordS InTO HEr eAR against the stOmach
of her sENse,' And she TuRneD Away frOm theM wITh a Piteous, petuLant
HopelessnEss: 'CouLD they noT Even let Her aloNe tO diE in pEAcE!'

DIanE wAS alMOsT anGEreD at this lItTlE sillY chiLD BEIng iN suCh an
Agony Of sorrow--she, whO coUld nEVer Have kNown hOw to LoVe him. and
aftEr all ThIs persistent griEf waS willfullY thRoWn aWaY. For DIAne
spoKe iN peRfect siNcerity WHen ShE TAXeD Veronique with an inJuRIOuS,
barbaroUs mistAKe. shE Knew her fAtHer'S strONG averSion TO vIolence,
aNd the rEAl PrEdilectIoN that BErEngEr's Good mIEn, reSpectfUl mannerS,
and lIBeral usage had wON from him, and shE BeLIEvED he hAd mUch rather
thE youTH livEd, prOViDed HE were InoffEnSIvE. no doubt a little force
HaD been nEcessAry to kidnap onE so tall, actIVE, And deterMineD,
AnD veronique had maDe up hEr horrible TAle after The usUal custoM of
waitinG-MAids.

NothIng ElsE SHoULd BE tRue. Did she thinK OTherWiSe, she shOulD be
even MorE frAntIc tHaN Eustacie! why, it wouLd Be HeR oWn dOing! SHE had
betrAyEd tHe Day Of the EScape--sHe had Held AlOoF FroM warninG. thERE
was PlEaSure In sEcUring nid-dE-merLe for heR brother, pLeaSUre iN
bAlKing the Foolish child wHo Had won the hEaRt tHat disREGarded heR.
Nay, there might have been eVEn pleasUre In the DestRuction of The
ScorneR of HEr charMs--the fOe of hEr HouSE--There MIGhT haVe Been pride
iN REceIving quEen CAtherinE's dexterous hint thaT She Had been an apt
pUpiL, if tHE YoUng bArON haD oNLy bEEN something diffeRent--somethInG
LeSs fair, gracIOus, BrIght, and Pure. One BrighT Angel seEmed to havE
flitted aCrOss hER
, but she
was little ableor willing  to s pea k,an d wo uldnot so much as list en
to Diane's assevera tions  t h at V e ro nique  had ma d ea fri gh tf uler r or ,
and  th at theBaron woul d p ro ve to be ali v e.  Whether i t w ere that
the  ad missio ntha t  Dian e h ad kn own of the pr oject for  p r eventi n g the
e l o pe ment  that invalidated he r  words, or whe ther t he su f f ere r's 
instinctma de he r  believ e  V e r o niq u e's testimony  rather tha n  he r cous in 'sa ssuran ces,it was  all 'cramm ingwords int o here ar agai n st thestomac h
o f h er s e ns e, ' a nd she tu rne d  aw ay fromth em  with  a p i t e o us,pet ulan t
hop elessness: 'C oul d th e y n ot ev en le t he ralone  to di e inpe ace!'

Diane wa s al most ange red  a t t hi s lit t le sil lychi ld bein g in su c h a na g o ny  of sorrow--she, w ho c ou ld never  havek no wn how to l ov e h im.A n d
aft er a l lthis per sisten t  g ri ef waswi llfull ythr own  away .  For  Diane 
spoke i n per f ect sincerityw hen she taxed Ve r o ni q ue w ith  an injurio us,b arba rous mi sta k e. Sh e kne wh er father's strong ave rs ion to  viol ence,
and the  real pred i l e ction th at B e re n ger's good mie n, re spectful m a nners,
a nd li beral us age had w o n  from hi m,and  sh e b e l ie ved he had mu c h  rat he r
the y out h lived , p rov ide d h ewere inof fensive.  N odo ub t a  litt l e forceha d b ee n n ecess a ry tokidna p on eso tal l, acti v e, a nd d et er mine d,an d Ver oniq u e h ad made  up her h orr i bleta le  afterthe usual cus to m of
waiti ng -ma ids.
N o thing el se SHOULD be true. Dids he thin k o therw ise,  she shou ldbe
eve n m o re fra ntic t han E us tac i e ! Why , it  wo ul d be her o w n  do ing!Sh e ha d
betra yed the day of the esc ape--she hadhel d al o o ffro m  w a rni ng .  Th e r e
was pleasurein securin gN id -de-Merlef orhe r broth er, ple asure in
balk ing the f oolish ch il d wh o had  won the h eart tha t disrega r ded h e r. 
Nay,  th ere mi gh t h ave b een ev e n p leasu re inth e dest ructi on  of thescorner of her charms-- the fo e ofher  house--t her e  mi ght havebeen  pride
inrec eiv ing Q uee n  Cath erin e 's  de x terou s hi n t that sh e  h adb e en  an apt
pup i l ,  if  theyou n g Baro n ha d only been somet h ing different- -som e t hin g
l e ss f ai r, gracious, b rig ht , and pure .One brightangel se em e d tohave
f litted  across h er 
, but_she
was little_able or willing to_speak, and_would_not so_much_as listen
to Diane's_asseverations that Veronique_had made a frightful_error,
and that the_Baron_would prove to be alive. Whether it were that
the admission that Diane had known_of_the project_for_preventing_the
elopement that invalidated her words,_or whether the sufferer's
instinct made_her believe_Veronique's testimony rather than her cousin's
assurances, it was_all_'cramming words into_her ear against the stomach
of her sense,' and she_turned away from them with a_piteous, petulant
hopelessness: 'Could_they_not_even let her alone_to die in peace!'

Diane was almost_angered at this little silly child_being in such an
agony of sorrow--she, who_could never have known how to_love him. And
after all this_persistent grief_was willfully thrown away. For_Diane
spoke in perfect_sincerity when_she taxed Veronique_with an injurious,
barbarous mistake. She knew_her father's strong_aversion to violence,
and the real predilection_that_Berenger's good mien,_respectful_manners,
and_liberal usage_had won from_him,_and she_believed_he had much rather
the youth lived,_provided_he were inoffensive. No doubt a little_force
had been necessary to_kidnap_one so tall, active,_and determined,
and Veronique had made_up her horrible tale after the_usual custom_of
waiting-maids.

Nothing else_SHOULD be true. Did she think otherwise, she should be
even more_frantic than Eustacie! Why, it would_be her own doing!_She had
betrayed_the_day of the_escape--she_had held_aloof from warning. There
was pleasure in securing_Nid-de-Merle for_her brother, pleasure in
balking the foolish_child who had won_the_heart that disregarded her.
Nay, there might_have been even pleasure in the_destruction of the
scorner of her_charms--the_foe_of her house--there might have_been pride
in receiving Queen Catherine's dexterous_hint that she_had been an apt
pupil, if the young_Baron_had only been something different--something
less fair,_gracious,_bright, and pure. One bright angel_seemed_to_have
flitted across her