I was piqued by the Earl’s coldness towards me, and something impelled me to pity the handsome suitor at my feet, so that although the tears were still welling from my eyes, could not help smiling and caressing his head as he looked up to my face.
“Darling Lucille, I may call you so now, you respond to my love, my happiness is too great,” he exclaimed, drawing my unresisting body down, so that our lips quickly met in a rapturous kiss of real love.
I was lost, and he so rapidly took advantage of everything, that proceeding from one liberty to another, in less than ten minutes I was an adulteress, but what a sweet sin, what transports of love shot through our souls as we melted away again and again in the ecstasies of mutual enjoyment; how we toyed with each other’s most secret charms, and promised to renew our forbidden pleasure at every convenient opportunity.
Alas, for our happiness, some spy informed the Earl of my sweet _liaison_, he made an excuse to visit Brussels with me and again I found myself incarcerated in a hateful convent.
The kindness of my husband on our journey from England (which I afterwards found was only a part of his most artful programme), had so imposed upon my rather soft-hearted nature, that I really felt sorry that I ever been unfaithful to my marriage vows, although no doubt the image of my loving paramour was firmly imprinted in my heart.
We went to operas, bal masques, saw all the sights, and enjoyed ourselves immensely for a few days and being strict Catholics he one day said jestingly, “I suppose, Lucille, we must go to confession, and get absolution after having enjoyed ourselves, and confess all the delightful sins we have committed; by-the-bye, be sure you do not forget to confess having ridden a St. George on your husband, and allowed him to spend his seed in your hand, or on your pretty bosom, they are most awful sins, and will cost a pretty penny for absolution. I should not be surprised if the Rev. Father undertook to inflict personal chastisement _à la Girard et Cadière_,” he added, laughing.
“But, seriously,” I answered, “apart from joking, I know we ought to do it, and will go to that church in the Rue de la Madeleine this very day, I know I am a sinner, but don’t like to make a laugh of such serious things.”