Summary

Various The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 17…

Now, dear master, you have got one friend in this house, and that is me: I know women better than you do. Will you be ruled by me?"
"Yes, I will: for I do believe you care a little for me."
"Then don't you believe anything against our Dame. Keep quiet till you know more. Don't you be so simple as to accuse her to her face, or you'll never learn the truth. Just you watch her quietly, without seeming; and I'll help you. Be a man, and know the truth."
"I will!" said Griffith, grinding his teeth. "And I believe she will come out pure as snow."
"Well, I hope so too," said Ryder, dryly.
Source: Gutenberg

Various The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 17…

Mephistopheles is an unholy spirit, nestling in the hearts of myriads of poor human beings who never heard of Goethe. Long after the mimic scene in which he shares shall have been forgot,—long after the sirens who have warbled poor Gretchen's joys and sorrows shall have mouldered in their graves,—long after the witching beauty of the Frenchman's harmony shall have been forever hushed,—long after the very language in which the German poet portrayed him shall have passed into oblivion,—will Mephistopheles carry his diabolisms into the souls of human kind, and hold there his mystic reign.
Source: Gutenberg

Various The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 17…

Do you know who this poor sufferer was whom our child had learned so to love, who died in her arms, who sleeps in the graveyard there, and of whom Adèle thinks as of a mother? I have inquired, I have searched high and low, I have fathomed all. Ah, my poor, good sister Marie! Only Marie! You have never known her. In those other days at dear Arles she was too good for you to know her. Yet even then she was a guardian angel,—a guardian too late. Mea culpa! Mea culpa!
Source: Gutenberg

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