"
Thaddeus, with a burning cheek, and a heart all at once robbed of
that elastic spring which till now had ever made him the happiest of
the happy, took up the letter of his father. The paper was worn, and
blistered with his mother's tears. His head seemed to swim as he
contemplated the handwriting, and he said to himself, "Am I to
respect or to abhor him?" He proceeded in the perusal.
"TO THERESE, COUNTESS SOBIESKI.
"How, Therese, am I to address you? But an attempt to palliate my
conduct would be to no purpose; indeed it is impossible. You cannot
conceive a viler opinion of me than I have of myself. I know that I
forfeit all claim to honor, in the most delicate point of your noble
and trusting heart!--that I have sacrificed your tenderness to my
distracted passions; but you shall no more be subject to the caprices
of a man who cannot repay your innocent love with his own. _You_
have no guilt to torture you; and you possess virtues which will
render you tranquil under every calamity. I leave you to your own
purity, and, therefore, peace of mind. Forget the ceremony which has
passed between us; my wretched heart disclaims it forever. Your
father is happily ignorant of it; pray spare him the anguish of
knowing that I was so utterly unworthy of his kindness; I feel that I
am more than ungrateful to you and to him. Therese, your most
inveterate hate cannot more strongly tell me than I can tell myself
that to you I have been a villain.
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