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diff --git a/1683-h/1683-h.htm b/1683-h/1683-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2da66f4 --- /dev/null +++ b/1683-h/1683-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3900 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Honorine, by Honore de Balzac + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Honorine, by Honore de Balzac + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Honorine + +Author: Honore de Balzac + +Translator: Clara Bell + +Release Date: February 28, 2010 [EBook #1683] +Last Updated: April 3, 2013 +Last Updated: November 22, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HONORINE *** + + + + +Produced by John Bickers, and Dagny, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + HONORINE + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Honore De Balzac + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated by Clara Bell + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + DEDICATION<br /><br /> To Monsieur Achille Deveria<br /><br /> An affectionate + remembrance from the Author.<br /> + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>HONORINE</b> </a><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0002"> ADDENDUM </a><br /> + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + HONORINE + </h1> + <p> + If the French have as great an aversion for traveling as the English have + a propensity for it, both English and French have perhaps sufficient + reasons. Something better than England is everywhere to be found; whereas + it is excessively difficult to find the charms of France outside France. + Other countries can show admirable scenery, and they frequently offer + greater comfort than that of France, which makes but slow progress in that + particular. They sometimes display a bewildering magnificence, grandeur, + and luxury; they lack neither grace nor noble manners; but the life of the + brain, the talent for conversation, the “Attic salt” so familiar at Paris, + the prompt apprehension of what one is thinking, but does not say, the + spirit of the unspoken, which is half the French language, is nowhere else + to be met with. Hence a Frenchman, whose raillery, as it is, finds so + little comprehension, would wither in a foreign land like an uprooted + tree. Emigration is counter to the instincts of the French nation. Many + Frenchmen, of the kind here in question, have owned to pleasure at seeing + the custom-house officers of their native land, which may seem the most + daring hyperbole of patriotism. + </p> + <p> + This preamble is intended to recall to such Frenchmen as have traveled the + extreme pleasure they have felt on occasionally finding their native land, + like an oasis, in the drawing-room of some diplomate: a pleasure hard to + be understood by those who have never left the asphalt of the Boulevard + des Italiens, and to whom the Quais of the left bank of the Seine are not + really Paris. To find Paris again! Do you know what that means, O + Parisians? It is to find—not indeed the cookery of the <i>Rocher de + Cancale</i> as Borel elaborates it for those who can appreciate it, for + that exists only in the Rue Montorgueil—but a meal which reminds you + of it! It is to find the wines of France, which out of France are to be + regarded as myths, and as rare as the woman of whom I write! It is to find—not + the most fashionable pleasantry, for it loses its aroma between Paris and + the frontier—but the witty understanding, the critical atmosphere in + which the French live, from the poet down to the artisan, from the duchess + to the boy in the street. + </p> + <p> + In 1836, when the Sardinian Court was residing at Genoa, two Parisians, + more or less famous, could fancy themselves still in Paris when they found + themselves in a palazzo, taken by the French Consul-General, on the hill + forming the last fold of the Apennines between the gate of San Tomaso and + the well-known lighthouse, which is to be seen in all the keepsake views + of Genoa. This palazzo is one of the magnificent villas on which Genoese + nobles were wont to spend millions at the time when the aristocratic + republic was a power. + </p> + <p> + If the early night is beautiful anywhere, it surely is at Genoa, after it + has rained as it can rain there, in torrents, all the morning; when the + clearness of the sea vies with that of the sky; when silence reigns on the + quay and in the groves of the villa, and over the marble heads with + yawning jaws, from which water mysteriously flows; when the stars are + beaming; when the waves of the Mediterranean lap one after another like + the avowal of a woman, from whom you drag it word by word. It must be + confessed, that the moment when the perfumed air brings fragrance to the + lungs and to our day-dreams; when voluptuousness, made visible and ambient + as the air, holds you in your easy-chair; when, a spoon in your hand, you + sip an ice or a sorbet, the town at your feet and fair woman opposite—such + Boccaccio hours can be known only in Italy and on the shores of the + Mediterranean. + </p> + <p> + Imagine to yourself, round the table, the Marquis di Negro, a knight + hospitaller to all men of talent on their travels, and the Marquis Damaso + Pareto, two Frenchmen disguised as Genoese, a Consul-General with a wife + as beautiful as a Madonna, and two silent children—silent because + sleep has fallen on them—the French Ambassador and his wife, a + secretary to the Embassy who believes himself to be crushed and + mischievous; finally, two Parisians, who have come to take leave of the + Consul’s wife at a splendid dinner, and you will have the picture + presented by the terrace of the villa about the middle of May—a + picture in which the predominant figure was that of a celebrated woman, on + whom all eyes centered now and again, the heroine of this improvised + festival. + </p> + <p> + One of the two Frenchmen was the famous landscape painter, Leon de Lora; + the other a well known critic Claude Vignon. They had both come with this + lady, one of the glories of the fair sex, Mademoiselle des Touches, known + in the literary world by the name of Camille Maupin. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle des Touches had been to Florence on business. With the + charming kindness of which she is prodigal, she had brought with her Leon + de Lora to show him Italy, and had gone on as far as Rome that he might + see the Campagna. She had come by Simplon, and was returning by the + Cornice road to Marseilles. She had stopped at Genoa, again on the + landscape painter’s account. The Consul-General had, of course, wished to + do the honors of Genoa, before the arrival of the Court, to a woman whose + wealth, name, and position recommend her no less than her talents. Camille + Maupin, who knew her Genoa down to its smallest chapels, had left her + landscape painter to the care of the diplomate and the two Genoese + marquises, and was miserly of her minutes. Though the ambassador was a + distinguished man of letters, the celebrated lady had refused to yield to + his advances, dreading what the English call an exhibition; but she had + drawn in the claws of her refusals when it was proposed that they should + spend a farewell day at the Consul’s villa. Leon de Lora had told Camille + that her presence at the villa was the only return he could make to the + Ambassador and his wife, the two Genoese noblemen, the Consul and his + wife. So Mademoiselle des Touches had sacrificed one of those days of + perfect freedom, which are not always to be had in Paris by those on whom + the world has its eye. + </p> + <p> + Now, the meeting being accounted for, it is easy to understand that + etiquette had been banished, as well as a great many women even of the + highest rank, who were curious to know whether Camille Maupin’s manly + talent impaired her grace as a pretty woman, and to see, in a word, + whether the trousers showed below her petticoats. After dinner till nine + o’clock, when a collation was served, though the conversation had been gay + and grave by turns, and constantly enlivened by Leon de Lora’s sallies—for + he is considered the most roguish wit of Paris to-day—and by the + good taste which will surprise no one after the list of guests, literature + had scarcely been mentioned. However, the butterfly flittings of this + French tilting match were certain to come to it, were it only to flutter + over this essentially French subject. But before coming to the turn in the + conversation which led the Consul-General to speak, it will not be out of + place to give some account of him and his family. + </p> + <p> + This diplomate, a man of four-and-thirty, who had been married about six + years, was the living portrait of Lord Byron. The familiarity of that face + makes a description of the Consul’s unnecessary. It may, however, be noted + that there was no affectation in his dreamy expression. Lord Byron was a + poet, and the Consul was poetical; women know and recognize the + difference, which explains without justifying some of their attachments. + His handsome face, thrown into relief by a delightful nature, had + captivated a Genoese heiress. A Genoese heiress! the expression might + raise a smile at Genoa, where, in consequence of the inability of + daughters to inherit, a woman is rarely rich; but Onorina Pedrotti, the + only child of a banker without heirs male, was an exception. + Notwithstanding all the flattering advances prompted by a spontaneous + passion, the Consul-General had not seemed to wish to marry. Nevertheless, + after living in the town for two years, and after certain steps taken by + the Ambassador during his visits to the Genoese Court, the marriage was + decided on. The young man withdrew his former refusal, less on account of + the touching affection of Onorina Pedrotti than by reason of an unknown + incident, one of those crises of private life which are so instantly + buried under the daily tide of interests that, at a subsequent date, the + most natural actions seem inexplicable. + </p> + <p> + This involution of causes sometimes affects the most serious events of + history. This, at any rate, was the opinion of the town of Genoa, where, + to some women, the extreme reserve, the melancholy of the French Consul + could be explained only by the word passion. It may be remarked, in + passing, that women never complain of being the victims of a preference; + they are very ready to immolate themselves for the common weal. Onorina + Pedrotti, who might have hated the Consul if she had been altogether + scorned, loved her <i>sposo</i> no less, and perhaps more, when she know + that he had loved. Women allow precedence in love affairs. All is well if + other women are in question. + </p> + <p> + A man is not a diplomate with impunity: the <i>sposo</i> was as secret as + the grave—so secret that the merchants of Genoa chose to regard the + young Consul’s attitude as premeditated, and the heiress might perhaps + have slipped through his fingers if he had not played his part of a + love-sick <i>malade imaginaire</i>. If it was real, the women thought it + too degrading to be believed. + </p> + <p> + Pedrotti’s daughter gave him her love as a consolation; she lulled these + unknown griefs in a cradle of tenderness and Italian caresses. + </p> + <p> + Il Signor Pedrotti had indeed no reason to complain of the choice to which + he was driven by his beloved child. Powerful protectors in Paris watched + over the young diplomate’s fortunes. In accordance with a promise made by + the Ambassador to the Consul-General’s father-in-law, the young man was + created Baron and Commander of the Legion of Honor. Signor Pedrotti + himself was made a Count by the King of Sardinia. Onorina’s dower was a + million of francs. As to the fortune of the Casa Pedrotti, estimated at + two millions, made in the corn trade, the young couple came into it within + six months of their marriage, for the first and last Count Pedrotti died + in January 1831. + </p> + <p> + Onorina Pedrotti is one of those beautiful Genoese women who, when they + are beautiful, are the most magnificent creatures in Italy. Michael Angelo + took his models in Genoa for the tomb of Giuliano. Hence the fulness and + singular placing of the breast in the figures of Day and Night, which so + many critics have thought exaggerated, but which is peculiar to the women + of Liguria. A Genoese beauty is no longer to be found excepting under the + mezzaro, as at Venice it is met with only under the <i>fazzioli</i>. This + phenomenon is observed among all fallen nations. The noble type survives + only among the populace, as after the burning of a town coins are found + hidden in the ashes. And Onorina, an exception as regards her fortune, is + no less an exceptional patrician beauty. Recall to mind the figure of + Night which Michael Angelo has placed at the feet of the <i>Pensieroso</i>, + dress her in modern garb, twist that long hair round the magnificent head, + a little dark in complexion, set a spark of fire in those dreamy eyes, + throw a scarf about the massive bosom, see the long dress, white, + embroidered with flowers, imagine the statue sitting upright, with her + arms folded like those of Mademoiselle Georges, and you will see before + you the Consul’s wife, with a boy of six, as handsome as a mother’s + desire, and a little girl of four on her knees, as beautiful as the type + of childhood so laboriously sought out by the sculptor David to grace a + tomb. + </p> + <p> + This beautiful family was the object of Camille’s secret study. It struck + Mademoiselle des Touches that the Consul looked rather too absent-minded + for a perfectly happy man. + </p> + <p> + Although, throughout the day, the husband and wife had offered her the + pleasing spectacle of complete happiness, Camille wondered why one of the + most superior men she had ever met, and whom she had seen too in Paris + drawing-rooms, remained as Consul-General at Genoa when he possessed a + fortune of a hundred odd thousand francs a year. But, at the same time, + she had discerned, by many of the little nothings which women perceive + with the intelligence of the Arab sage in <i>Zadig</i>, that the husband + was faithfully devoted. These two handsome creatures would no doubt love + each other without a misunderstanding till the end of their days. So + Camille said to herself alternately, “What is wrong?—Nothing is + wrong,” following the misleading symptoms of the Consul’s demeanor; and + he, it may be said, had the absolute calmness of Englishmen, of savages, + of Orientals, and of consummate diplomatists. + </p> + <p> + In discussing literature, they spoke of the perennial stock-in-trade of + the republic of letters—woman’s sin. And they presently found + themselves confronted by two opinions: When a woman sins, is the man or + the woman to blame? The three women present—the Ambassadress, the + Consul’s wife, and Mademoiselle des Touches, women, of course, of + blameless reputations—were without pity for the woman. The men tried + to convince these fair flowers of their sex that some virtues might remain + in a woman after she had fallen. + </p> + <p> + “How long are we going to play at hide-and-seek in this way?” said Leon de + Lora. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Cara vita</i>, go and put your children to bed, and send me by Gina + the little black pocket-book that lies on my Boule cabinet,” said the + Consul to his wife. + </p> + <p> + She rose without a reply, which shows that she loved her husband very + truly, for she already knew French enough to understand that her husband + was getting rid of her. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you a story in which I played a part, and after that we can + discuss it, for it seems to me childish to practise with the scalpel on an + imaginary body. Begin by dissecting a corpse.” + </p> + <p> + Every one prepared to listen, with all the greater readiness because they + had all talked enough, and this is the moment to be chosen for telling a + story. This, then, is the Consul-General’s tale:— + </p> + <p> + “When I was two-and-twenty, and had taken my degree in law, my old uncle, + the Abbe Loraux, then seventy-two years old, felt it necessary to provide + me with a protector, and to start me in some career. This excellent man, + if not indeed a saint, regarded each year of his life as a fresh gift from + God. I need not tell you that the father confessor of a Royal Highness had + no difficulty in finding a place for a young man brought up by himself, + his sister’s only child. So one day, towards the end of the year 1824, + this venerable old man, who for five years had been Cure of the White + Friars at Paris, came up to the room I had in his house, and said: + </p> + <p> + “‘Get yourself dressed, my dear boy; I am going to introduce you to some + one who is willing to engage you as secretary. If I am not mistaken, he + may fill my place in the event of God’s taking me to Himself. I shall have + finished mass at nine o’clock; you have three-quarters of an hour before + you. Be ready.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘What, uncle! must I say good-bye to this room, where for four years I + have been so happy?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I have no fortune to leave you,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + “‘Have you not the reputation of your name to leave me, the memory of your + good works——?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘We need say nothing of that inheritance,’ he replied, smiling. ‘You do + not yet know enough of the world to be aware that a legacy of that kind is + hardly likely to be paid, whereas by taking you this morning to M. le + Comte’—Allow me,” said the Consul, interrupting himself, “to speak + of my protector by his Christian name only, and to call him Comte Octave.—‘By + taking you this morning to M. le Comte Octave, I hope to secure you his + patronage, which, if you are so fortunate as to please that virtuous + statesman—as I make no doubt you can—will be worth, at least, + as much as the fortune I might have accumulated for you, if my + brother-in-law’s ruin and my sister’s death had not fallen on me like a + thunder-bolt from a clear sky.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Are you the Count’s director?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘If I were, could I place you with him? What priest could be capable of + taking advantage of the secrets which he learns at the tribunal of + repentance? No; you owe this position to his Highness, the Keeper of the + Seals. My dear Maurice, you will be as much at home there as in your + father’s house. The Count will give you a salary of two thousand four + hundred francs, rooms in his house, and an allowance of twelve hundred + francs in lieu of feeding you. He will not admit you to his table, nor + give you a separate table, for fear of leaving you to the care of + servants. I did not accept the offer when it was made to me till I was + perfectly certain that Comte Octave’s secretary was never to be a mere + upper servant. You will have an immense amount of work, for the Count is a + great worker; but when you leave him, you will be qualified to fill the + highest posts. I need not warn you to be discreet; that is the first + virtue of any man who hopes to hold public appointments.’ + </p> + <p> + “You may conceive of my curiosity. Comte Octave, at that time, held one of + the highest legal appointments; he was in the confidence of Madame the + Dauphiness, who had just got him made a State Minister; he led such a life + as the Comte de Serizy, whom you all know, I think; but even more quietly, + for his house was in the Marais, Rue Payenne, and he hardly ever + entertained. His private life escaped public comment by its hermit-like + simplicity and by constant hard work. + </p> + <p> + “Let me describe my position to you in a few words. Having found in the + solemn headmaster of the College Saint-Louis a tutor to whom my uncle + delegated his authority, at the age of eighteen I had gone through all the + classes; I left school as innocent as a seminarist, full of faith, on + quitting Saint-Sulpice. My mother, on her deathbed, had made my uncle + promise that I should not become a priest, but I was as pious as though I + had to take orders. On leaving college, the Abbe Loraux took me into his + house and made me study law. During the four years of study requisite for + passing all the examinations, I worked hard, but chiefly at things outside + the arid fields of jurisprudence. Weaned from literature as I had been at + college, where I lived in the headmaster’s house, I had a thirst to + quench. As soon as I had read a few modern masterpieces, the works of all + the preceding ages were greedily swallowed. I became crazy about the + theatre, and for a long time I went every night to the play, though my + uncle gave me only a hundred francs a month. This parsimony, to which the + good old man was compelled by his regard for the poor, had the effect of + keeping a young man’s desires within reasonable limits. + </p> + <p> + “When I went to live with Comte Octave I was not indeed an innocent, but I + thought of my rare escapades as crimes. My uncle was so truly angelic, and + I was so much afraid of grieving him, that in all those four years I had + never spent a night out. The good man would wait till I came in to go to + bed. This maternal care had more power to keep me within bounds than the + sermons and reproaches with which the life of a young man is diversified + in a puritanical home. I was a stranger to the various circles which make + up the world of Paris society; I only knew some women of the better sort, + and none of the inferior class but those I saw as I walked about, or in + the boxes at the play, and then only from the depths of the pit where I + sat. If, at that period, any one had said to me, ‘You will see Canalis, or + Camille Maupin,’ I should have felt hot coals in my head and in my bowels. + Famous people were to me as gods, who neither spoke, nor walked, nor ate + like other mortals. + </p> + <p> + “How many tales of the Thousand-and-one Nights are comprehended in the + ripening of a youth! How many wonderful lamps must we have rubbed before + we understand that the True Wonderful Lamp is either luck, or work, or + genius. In some men this dream of the aroused spirit is but brief; mine + has lasted until now! In those days I always went to sleep as Grand Duke + of Tuscany,—as a millionaire,—as beloved by a princess,—or + famous! So to enter the service of Comte Octave, and have a hundred louis + a year, was entering on independent life. I had glimpses of some chance of + getting into society, and seeking for what my heart desired most, a + protectress, who would rescue me from the paths of danger, which a young + man of two-and-twenty can hardly help treading, however prudent and well + brought up he may be. I began to be afraid of myself. + </p> + <p> + “The persistent study of other people’s rights into which I had plunged + was not always enough to repress painful imaginings. Yes, sometimes in + fancy I threw myself into theatrical life; I thought I could be a great + actor; I dreamed of endless triumphs and loves, knowing nothing of the + disillusion hidden behind the curtain, as everywhere else—for every + stage has its reverse behind the scenes. I have gone out sometimes, my + heart boiling, carried away by an impulse to rush hunting through Paris, + to attach myself to some handsome woman I might meet, to follow her to her + door, watch her, write to her, throw myself on her mercy, and conquer her + by sheer force of passion. My poor uncle, a heart consumed by charity, a + child of seventy years, as clear-sighted as God, as guileless as a man of + genius, no doubt read the tumult of my soul; for when he felt the tether + by which he held me strained too tightly and ready to break, he would + never fail to say, ‘Here, Maurice, you too are poor! Here are twenty + francs; go and amuse yourself, you are not a priest!’ And if you could + have seen the dancing light that gilded his gray eyes, the smile that + relaxed his fine lips, puckering the corners of his mouth, the adorable + expression of that august face, whose native ugliness was redeemed by the + spirit of an apostle, you would understand the feeling which made me + answer the Cure of White Friars only with a kiss, as if he had been my + mother. + </p> + <p> + “‘In Comte Octave you will find not a master, but a friend,’ said my uncle + on the way to the Rue Payenne. ‘But he is distrustful, or to be more + exact, he is cautious. The statesman’s friendship can be won only with + time; for in spite of his deep insight and his habit of gauging men, he + was deceived by the man you are succeeding, and nearly became a victim to + his abuse of confidence. This is enough to guide you in your behavior to + him.’ + </p> + <p> + “When we knocked at the enormous outer door of a house as large as the + Hotel Carnavalet, with a courtyard in front and a garden behind, the sound + rang as in a desert. While my uncle inquired of an old porter in livery if + the Count were at home, I cast my eyes, seeing everything at once, over + the courtyard where the cobblestones were hidden in the grass, the + blackened walls where little gardens were flourishing above the + decorations of the elegant architecture, and on the roof, as high as that + of the Tuileries. The balustrade of the upper balconies was eaten away. + Through a magnificent colonnade I could see a second court on one side, + where were the offices; the door was rotting. An old coachman was there + cleaning an old carriage. The indifferent air of this servant allowed me + to assume that the handsome stables, where of old so many horses had + whinnied, now sheltered two at most. The handsome facade of the house + seemed to me gloomy, like that of a mansion belonging to the State or the + Crown, and given up to some public office. A bell rang as we walked + across, my uncle and I, from the porter’s lodge—<i>Inquire of the + Porter</i> was still written over the door—towards the outside + steps, where a footman came out in a livery like that of Labranche at the + Theatre Francais in the old stock plays. A visitor was so rare that the + servant was putting his coat on when he opened a glass door with small + panes, on each side of which the smoke of a lamp had traced patterns on + the walls. + </p> + <p> + “A hall so magnificent as to be worthy of Versailles ended in a staircase + such as will never again be built in France, taking up as much space as + the whole of a modern house. As we went up the marble steps, as cold as + tombstones, and wide enough for eight persons to walk abreast, our tread + echoed under sonorous vaulting. The banister charmed the eye by its + miraculous workmanship—goldsmith’s work in iron—wrought by the + fancy of an artist of the time of Henri III. Chilled as by an icy mantle + that fell on our shoulders, we went through ante-rooms, drawing-rooms + opening one out of the other, with carpetless parquet floors, and + furnished with such splendid antiquities as from thence would find their + way to the curiosity dealers. At last we reached a large study in a cross + wing, with all the windows looking into an immense garden. + </p> + <p> + “‘Monsieur le Cure of the White Friars, and his nephew, Monsieur de + l’Hostal,’ said Labranche, to whose care the other theatrical servant had + consigned us in the first ante-chamber. + </p> + <p> + “Comte Octave, dressed in long trousers and a gray flannel morning coat, + rose from his seat by a huge writing-table, came to the fireplace, and + signed to me to sit down, while he went forward to take my uncle’s hands, + which he pressed. + </p> + <p> + “‘Though I am in the parish of Saint-Paul,’ said he, ‘I could scarcely + have failed to hear of the Cure of the White Friars, and I am happy to + make his acquaintance.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Your Excellency is most kind,’ replied my uncle. ‘I have brought to you + my only remaining relation. While I believe that I am offering a good gift + to your Excellency, I hope at the same time to give my nephew a second + father.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘As to that, I can only reply, Monsieur l’Abbe, when we shall have tried + each other,’ said Comte Octave. ‘Your name?’ he added to me. + </p> + <p> + “‘Maurice.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘He has taken his doctor’s degree in law,’ my uncle observed. + </p> + <p> + “‘Very good, very good!’ said the Count, looking at me from head to foot. + ‘Monsieur l’Abbe, I hope that for your nephew’s sake in the first + instance, and then for mine, you will do me the honor of dining here every + Monday. That will be our family dinner, our family party.’ + </p> + <p> + “My uncle and the Count then began to talk of religion from the political + point of view, of charitable institutes, the repression of crime, and I + could at my leisure study the man on whom my fate would henceforth depend. + The Count was of middle height; it was impossible to judge of his build on + account of his dress, but he seemed to me to be lean and spare. His face + was harsh and hollow; the features were refined. His mouth, which was + rather large, expressed both irony and kindliness. His forehead perhaps + too spacious, was as intimidating as that of a madman, all the more so + from the contrast of the lower part of the face, which ended squarely in a + short chin very near the lower lip. Small eyes, of turquoise blue, were as + keen and bright as those of the Prince de Talleyrand—which I admired + at a later time—and endowed, like the Prince’s, with the faculty of + becoming expressionless to the verge of gloom; and they added to the + singularity of a face that was not pale but yellow. This complexion seemed + to bespeak an irritable temper and violent passions. His hair, already + silvered, and carefully dressed, seemed to furrow his head with streaks of + black and white alternately. The trimness of this head spoiled the + resemblance I had remarked in the Count to the wonderful monk described by + Lewis after Schedoni in the <i>Confessional of the Black Penitents (The + Italian)</i>, a superior creation, as it seems to me, to <i>The Monk</i>. + </p> + <p> + “The Count was already shaved, having to attend early at the law courts. + Two candelabra with four lights, screened by lamp-shades, were still + burning at the opposite ends of the writing-table, and showed plainly that + the magistrate rose long before daylight. His hands, which I saw when he + took hold of the bell-pull to summon his servant, were extremely fine, and + as white as a woman’s. + </p> + <p> + “As I tell you this story,” said the Consul-General, interrupting himself, + “I am altering the titles and the social position of this gentleman, while + placing him in circumstances analogous to what his really were. His + profession, rank, luxury, fortune, and style of living were the same; all + these details are true, but I would not be false to my benefactor, nor to + my usual habits of discretion. + </p> + <p> + “Instead of feeling—as I really was, socially speaking—an + insect in the presence of an eagle,” the narrator went on after a pause, + “I felt I know not what indefinable impression from the Count’s + appearance, which, however, I can now account for. Artists of genius” (and + he bowed gracefully to the Ambassador, the distinguished lady, and the two + Frenchmen), “real statesmen, poets, a general who has commanded armies—in + short, all really great minds are simple, and their simplicity places you + on a level with themselves.—You who are all of superior minds,” he + said, addressing his guests, “have perhaps observed how feeling can bridge + over the distances created by society. If we are inferior to you in + intellect, we can be your equals in devoted friendship. By the temperature—allow + me the word—of our hearts I felt myself as near my patron as I was + far below him in rank. In short, the soul has its clairvoyance; it has + presentiments of suffering, grief, joy, antagonism, or hatred in others. + </p> + <p> + “I vaguely discerned the symptoms of a mystery, from recognizing in the + Count the same effects of physiognomy as I had observed in my uncle. The + exercise of virtue, serenity of conscience, and purity of mind had + transfigured my uncle, who from being ugly had become quite beautiful. I + detected a metamorphosis of a reverse kind in the Count’s face; at the + first glance I thought he was about fifty-five, but after an attentive + examination I found youth entombed under the ice of a great sorrow, under + the fatigue of persistent study, under the glowing hues of some suppressed + passion. At a word from my uncle the Count’s eyes recovered for a moment + the softness of the periwinkle flower, and he had an admiring smile, which + revealed what I believed to be his real age, about forty. These + observations I made, not then but afterwards, as I recalled the + circumstances of my visit. + </p> + <p> + “The man-servant came in carrying a tray with his master’s breakfast on + it. + </p> + <p> + “‘I did not ask for breakfast,’ remarked the Count; ‘but leave it, and + show monsieur to his rooms.’ + </p> + <p> + “I followed the servant, who led the way to a complete set of pretty + rooms, under a terrace, between the great courtyard and the servants’ + quarters, over a corridor of communication between the kitchens and the + grand staircase. When I returned to the Count’s study, I overheard, before + opening the door, my uncle pronouncing this judgment on me: + </p> + <p> + “‘He may do wrong, for he has strong feelings, and we are all liable to + honorable mistakes; but he has no vices.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Well,’ said the Count, with a kindly look, ‘do you like yourself there? + Tell me. There are so many rooms in this barrack that, if you were not + comfortable, I could put you elsewhere.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘At my uncle’s I had but one room,’ replied I. + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, you can settle yourself this evening,’ said the Count, ‘for your + possessions, no doubt, are such as all students own, and a hackney coach + will be enough to convey them. To-day we will all three dine together,’ + and he looked at my uncle. + </p> + <p> + “A splendid library opened from the Count’s study, and he took us in + there, showing me a pretty little recess decorated with paintings, which + had formerly served, no doubt, as an oratory. + </p> + <p> + “‘This is your cell,’ said he. ‘You will sit there when you have to work + with me, for you will not be tethered by a chain;’ and he explained in + detail the kind and duration of my employment with him. As I listened I + felt that he was a great political teacher. + </p> + <p> + “It took me about a month to familiarize myself with people and things, to + learn the duties of my new office, and accustom myself to the Count’s + methods. A secretary necessarily watches the man who makes use of him. + That man’s tastes, passions, temper, and manias become the subject of + involuntary study. The union of their two minds is at once more and less + than a marriage. + </p> + <p> + “During these months the Count and I reciprocally studied each other. I + learned with astonishment that Comte Octave was but thirty-seven years + old. The merely superficial peacefulness of his life and the propriety of + his conduct were the outcome not solely of a deep sense of duty and of + stoical reflection; in my constant intercourse with this man—an + extraordinary man to those who knew him well—I felt vast depths + beneath his toil, beneath his acts of politeness, his mask of benignity, + his assumption of resignation, which so closely resembled calmness that it + is easy to mistake it. Just as when walking through forest-lands certain + soils give forth under our feet a sound which enables us to guess whether + they are dense masses of stone or a void; so intense egoism, though hidden + under the flowers of politeness, and subterranean caverns eaten out by + sorrow sound hollow under the constant touch of familiar life. It was + sorrow and not despondency that dwelt in that really great soul. The Count + had understood that actions, deeds, are the supreme law of social man. And + he went on his way in spite of secret wounds, looking to the future with a + tranquil eye, like a martyr full of faith. + </p> + <p> + “His concealed sadness, the bitter disenchantment from which he suffered, + had not led him into philosophical deserts of incredulity; this brave + statesman was religious, without ostentation; he always attended the + earliest mass at Saint-Paul’s for pious workmen and servants. Not one of + his friends, no one at Court, knew that he so punctually fulfilled the + practice of religion. He was addicted to God as some men are addicted to a + vice, with the greatest mystery. Thus one day I came to find the Count at + the summit of an Alp of woe much higher than that on which many are who + think themselves the most tried; who laugh at the passions and the beliefs + of others because they have conquered their own; who play variations in + every key of irony and disdain. He did not mock at those who still follow + hope into the swamps whither she leads, nor those who climb a peak to be + alone, nor those who persist in the fight, reddening the arena with their + blood and strewing it with their illusions. He looked on the world as a + whole; he mastered its beliefs; he listened to its complaining; he was + doubtful of affection, and yet more of self-sacrifice; but this great and + stern judge pitied them, or admired them, not with transient enthusiasm, + but with silence, concentration, and the communion of a deeply-touched + soul. He was a sort of catholic Manfred, and unstained by crime, carrying + his choiceness into his faith, melting the snows by the fires of a sealed + volcano, holding converse with a star seen by himself alone! + </p> + <p> + “I detected many dark riddles in his ordinary life. He evaded my gaze not + like a traveler who, following a path, disappears from time to time in + dells or ravines according to the formation of the soil, but like a + sharpshooter who is being watched, who wants to hide himself, and seeks a + cover. I could not account for his frequent absences at the times when he + was working the hardest, and of which he made no secret from me, for he + would say, ‘Go on with this for me,’ and trust me with the work in hand. + </p> + <p> + “This man, wrapped in the threefold duties of the statesman, the judge, + and the orator, charmed me by a taste for flowers, which shows an elegant + mind, and which is shared by almost all persons of refinement. His garden + and his study were full of the rarest plants, but he always bought them + half-withered. Perhaps it pleased him to see such an image of his own + fate! He was faded like these dying flowers, whose almost decaying + fragrance mounted strangely to his brain. The Count loved his country; he + devoted himself to public interests with the frenzy of a heart that seeks + to cheat some other passion; but the studies and work into which he threw + himself were not enough for him; there were frightful struggles in his + mind, of which some echoes reached me. Finally, he would give utterance to + harrowing aspirations for happiness, and it seemed to me he ought yet to + be happy; but what was the obstacle? Was there a woman he loved? This was + a question I asked myself. You may imagine the extent of the circles of + torment that my mind had searched before coming to so simple and so + terrible a question. Notwithstanding his efforts, my patron did not + succeed in stifling the movements of his heart. Under his austere manner, + under the reserve of the magistrate, a passion rebelled, though coerced + with such force that no one but I who lived with him ever guessed the + secret. His motto seemed to be, ‘I suffer, and am silent.’ The escort of + respect and admiration which attended him; the friendship of workers as + valiant as himself—Grandville and Serizy, both presiding judges—had + no hold over the Count: either he told them nothing, or they knew all. + Impassible and lofty in public, the Count betrayed the man only on rare + intervals when, alone in his garden or his study, he supposed himself + unobserved; but then he was a child again, he gave course to the tears + hidden beneath the toga, to the excitement which, if wrongly interpreted, + might have damaged his credit for perspicacity as a statesman. + </p> + <p> + “When all this had become to me a matter of certainty, Comte Octave had + all the attractions of a problem, and won on my affection as much as + though he had been my own father. Can you enter into the feeling of + curiosity, tempered by respect? What catastrophe had blasted this learned + man, who, like Pitt, had devoted himself from the age of eighteen to the + studies indispensable to power, while he had no ambition; this judge, who + thoroughly knew the law of nations, political law, civil and criminal law, + and who could find in these a weapon against every anxiety, against every + mistake; this profound legislator, this serious writer, this pious + celibate whose life sufficiently proved that he was open to no reproach? A + criminal could not have been more hardly punished by God than was my + master; sorrow had robbed him of half his slumbers; he never slept more + than four hours. What struggle was it that went on in the depths of these + hours apparently so calm, so studious, passing without a sound or a + murmur, during which I often detected him, when the pen had dropped from + his fingers, with his head resting on one hand, his eyes like two fixed + stars, and sometimes wet with tears? How could the waters of that living + spring flow over the burning strand without being dried up by the + subterranean fire? Was there below it, as there is under the sea, between + it and the central fires of the globe, a bed of granite? And would the + volcano burst at last? + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes the Count would give me a look of that sagacious and keen-eyed + curiosity by which one man searches another when he desires an accomplice; + then he shunned my eye as he saw it open a mouth, so to speak, insisting + on a reply, and seeming to say, ‘Speak first!’ Now and then Comte Octave’s + melancholy was surly and gruff. If these spurts of temper offended me, he + could get over it without thinking of asking my pardon; but then his + manners were gracious to the point of Christian humility. + </p> + <p> + “When I became attached like a son to this man—to me such a mystery, + but so intelligible to the outer world, to whom the epithet eccentric is + enough to account for all the enigmas of the heart—I changed the + state of the house. Neglect of his own interests was carried by the Count + to the length of folly in the management of his affairs. Possessing an + income of about a hundred and sixty thousand francs, without including the + emoluments of his appointments—three of which did not come under the + law against plurality—he spent sixty thousand, of which at least + thirty thousand went to his servants. By the end of the first year I had + got rid of all these rascals, and begged His Excellency to use his + influence in helping me to get honest servants. By the end of the second + year the Count, better fed and better served, enjoyed the comforts of + modern life; he had fine horses, supplied by a coachman to whom I paid so + much a month for each horse; his dinners on his reception days, furnished + by Chevet at a price agreed upon, did him credit; his daily meals were + prepared by an excellent cook found by my uncle, and helped by two + kitchenmaids. The expenditure for housekeeping, not including purchases, + was no more than thirty thousand francs a year; we had two additional + men-servants, whose care restored the poetical aspect of the house; for + this old palace, splendid even in its rust, had an air of dignity which + neglect had dishonored. + </p> + <p> + “‘I am no longer astonished,’ said he, on hearing of these results, ‘at + the fortunes made by servants. In seven years I have had two cooks, who + have become rich restaurant-keepers.’ + </p> + <p> + “Early in the year 1826 the Count had, no doubt, ceased to watch me, and + we were as closely attached as two men can be when one is subordinate to + the other. He had never spoken to me of my future prospects, but he had + taken an interest, both as a master and as a father, in training me. He + often required me to collect materials for his most arduous labors; I drew + up some of his reports, and he corrected them, showing the difference + between his interpretation of the law, his views and mine. When at last I + had produced a document which he could give in as his own he was + delighted; this satisfaction was my reward, and he could see that I took + it so. This little incident produced an extraordinary effect on a soul + which seemed so stern. The Count pronounced sentence on me, to use a legal + phrase, as supreme and royal judge; he took my head in his hands, and + kissed me on the forehead. + </p> + <p> + “‘Maurice,’ he exclaimed, ‘you are no longer my apprentice; I know not yet + what you will be to me—but if no change occurs in my life, perhaps + you will take the place of a son.’ + </p> + <p> + “Comte Octave had introduced me to the best houses in Paris, whither I + went in his stead, with his servants and carriage, on the too frequent + occasions when, on the point of starting, he changed his mind, and sent + for a hackney cab to take him—Where?—that was the mystery. By + the welcome I met with I could judge of the Count’s feelings towards me, + and the earnestness of his recommendations. He supplied all my wants with + the thoughtfulness of a father, and with all the greater liberality + because my modesty left it to him always to think of me. Towards the end + of January 1827, at the house of the Comtesse de Serizy, I had such + persistent ill-luck at play that I lost two thousand francs, and I would + not draw them out of my savings. Next morning I asked myself, ‘Had I + better ask my uncle for the money, or put my confidence in the Count?’ + </p> + <p> + “I decided on the second alternative. + </p> + <p> + “‘Yesterday,’ said I, when he was at breakfast, ‘I lost persistently at + play; I was provoked, and went on; I owe two thousand francs. Will you + allow me to draw the sum on account of my year’s salary?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘No,’ said he, with the sweetest smile; ‘when a man plays in society, he + must have a gambling purse. Draw six thousand francs; pay your debts. + Henceforth we must go halves; for since you are my representative on most + occasions, your self-respect must not be made to suffer for it.’ + </p> + <p> + “I made no speech of thanks. Thanks would have been superfluous between + us. This shade shows the character of our relations. And yet we had not + yet unlimited confidence in each other; he did not open to me the vast + subterranean chambers which I had detected in his secret life; and I, for + my part, never said to him, ‘What ails you? From what are you suffering?’ + </p> + <p> + “What could he be doing during those long evenings? He would often come in + on foot or in a hackney cab when I returned in a carriage—I, his + secretary! Was so pious a man a prey to vices hidden under hypocrisy? Did + he expend all the powers of his mind to satisfy a jealousy more dexterous + than Othello’s? Did he live with some woman unworthy of him? One morning, + on returning from I have forgotten what shop, where I had just paid a + bill, between the Church of Saint-Paul and the Hotel de Ville, I came + across Comte Octave in such eager conversation with an old woman that he + did not see me. The appearance of this hag filled me with strange + suspicions, suspicions that were all the better founded because I never + found that the Count invested his savings. Is it not shocking to think of? + I was constituting myself my patron’s censor. At that time I knew that he + had more than six hundred thousand francs to invest; and if he had bought + securities of any kind, his confidence in me was so complete in all that + concerned his pecuniary interests, that I certainly should have known it. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes, in the morning, the Count took exercise in his garden, to and + fro, like a man to whom a walk is the hippogryph ridden by dreamy + melancholy. He walked and walked! And he rubbed his hands enough to rub + the skin off. And then, if I met him unexpectedly as he came to the angle + of a path, I saw his face beaming. His eyes, instead of the hardness of a + turquoise, had that velvety softness of the blue periwinkle, which had so + much struck me on the occasion of my first visit, by reason of the + astonishing contrast in the two different looks; the look of a happy man, + and the look of an unhappy man. Two or three times at such a moment he had + taken me by the arm and led me on; then he had said, ‘What have you come + to ask?’ instead of pouring out his joy into my heart that opened to him. + But more often, especially since I could do his work for him and write his + reports, the unhappy man would sit for hours staring at the goldfish that + swarmed in a handsome marble basin in the middle of the garden, round + which grew an amphitheatre of the finest flowers. He, an accomplished + statesman, seemed to have succeeded in making a passion of the mechanical + amusement of crumbling bread to fishes. + </p> + <p> + “This is how the drama was disclosed of this second inner life, so deeply + ravaged and storm-tossed, where, in a circle overlooked by Dante in his <i>Inferno</i>, + horrible joys had their birth.” + </p> + <p> + The Consul-General paused. + </p> + <p> + “On a certain Monday,” he resumed, “as chance would have it, M. le + President de Grandville and M. de Serizy (at that time Vice-President of + the Council of State) had come to hold a meeting at Comte Octave’s house. + They formed a committee of three, of which I was the secretary. The Count + had already got me the appointment of Auditor to the Council of State. All + the documents requisite for their inquiry into the political matter + privately submitted to these three gentlemen were laid out on one of the + long tables in the library. MM. de Grandville and de Serizy had trusted to + the Count to make the preliminary examination of the papers relating to + the matter. To avoid the necessity for carrying all the papers to M. de + Serizy, as president of the commission, it was decided that they should + meet first in the Rue Payenne. The Cabinet at the Tuileries attached great + importance to this piece of work, of which the chief burden fell on me—and + to which I owed my appointment, in the course of that year, to be Master + of Appeals. + </p> + <p> + “Though the Comtes de Grandville and de Serizy, whose habits were much the + same as my patron’s, never dined away from home, we were still discussing + the matter at a late hour, when we were startled by the man-servant + calling me aside to say, ‘MM. the Cures of Saint-Paul and of the White + Friars have been waiting in the drawing-room for two hours.’ + </p> + <p> + “It was nine o’clock. + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, gentlemen, you find yourselves compelled to dine with priests,’ + said Comte Octave to his colleagues. ‘I do not know whether Grandville can + overcome his horror of a priest’s gown——’ + </p> + <p> + “‘It depends on the priest.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘One of them is my uncle, and the other is the Abbe Gaudron,’ said I. ‘Do + not be alarmed; the Abbe Fontanon is no longer second priest at Saint-Paul——’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, let us dine,’ replied the President de Grandville. ‘A bigot + frightens me, but there is no one so cheerful as a truly pious man.’ + </p> + <p> + “We went into the drawing-room. The dinner was delightful. Men of real + information, politicians to whom business gives both consummate experience + and the practice of speech, are admirable story-tellers, when they tell + stories. With them there is no medium; they are either heavy, or they are + sublime. In this delightful sport Prince Metternich is as good as Charles + Nodier. The fun of a statesman, cut in facets like a diamond, is sharp, + sparkling, and full of sense. Being sure that the proprieties would be + observed by these three superior men, my uncle allowed his wit full play, + a refined wit, gentle, penetrating, and elegant, like that of all men who + are accustomed to conceal their thoughts under the black robe. And you may + rely upon it, there was nothing vulgar nor idle in this light talk, which + I would compare, for its effect on the soul, to Rossini’s music. + </p> + <p> + “The Abbe Gaudron was, as M. de Grandville said, a Saint Peter rather than + a Saint Paul, a peasant full of faith, as square on his feet as he was + tall, a sacerdotal of whose ignorance in matters of the world and of + literature enlivened the conversation by guileless amazement and + unexpected questions. They came to talking of one of the plague spots of + social life, of which we were just now speaking—adultery. My uncle + remarked on the contradiction which the legislators of the Code, still + feeling the blows of the revolutionary storm, had established between + civil and religious law, and which he said was at the root of all the + mischief. + </p> + <p> + “‘In the eyes of the Church,’ said he, ‘adultery is a crime; in those of + your tribunals it is a misdemeanor. Adultery drives to the police court in + a carriage instead of standing at the bar to be tried. Napoleon’s Council + of State, touched with tenderness towards erring women, was quite + inefficient. Ought they not in this case to have harmonized the civil and + the religious law, and have sent the guilty wife to a convent, as of old?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘To a convent!’ said M. de Serizy. ‘They must first have created + convents, and in those days monasteries were being turned into barracks. + Besides, think of what you say, M. l’Abbe—give to God what society + would have none of?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Oh!’ said the Comte de Grandville, ‘you do not know France. They were + obliged to leave the husband free to take proceedings: well, there are not + ten cases of adultery brought up in a year.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘M. l’Abbe preaches for his own saint, for it was Jesus Christ who + invented adultery,’ said Comte Octave. ‘In the East, the cradle of the + human race, woman was merely a luxury, and there was regarded as a + chattel; no virtues were demanded of her but obedience and beauty. By + exalting the soul above the body, the modern family in Europe—a + daughter of Christ—invented indissoluble marriage, and made it a + sacrament.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Ah! the Church saw the difficulties,’ exclaimed M. de Grandville. + </p> + <p> + “‘This institution has given rise to a new world,’ the Count went on with + a smile. ‘But the practices of that world will never be that of a climate + where women are marriageable at seven years of age, and more than old at + five-and-twenty. The Catholic Church overlooked the needs of half the + globe.—So let us discuss Europe only. + </p> + <p> + “‘Is woman our superior or our inferior? That is the real question so far + as we are concerned. If woman is our inferior, by placing her on so high a + level as the Church does, fearful punishments for adultery were needful. + And formerly that was what was done. The cloister or death sums up early + legislation. But since then practice has modified the law, as is always + the case. The throne served as a hotbed for adultery, and the increase of + this inviting crime marks the decline of the dogmas of the Catholic + Church. In these days, in cases where the Church now exacts no more than + sincere repentance from the erring wife, society is satisfied with a + brand-mark instead of an execution. The law still condemns the guilty, but + it no longer terrifies them. In short, there are two standards of morals: + that of the world, and that of the Code. Where the Code is weak, as I + admit with our dear Abbe, the world is audacious and satirical. There are + so few judges who would not gladly have committed the fault against which + they hurl the rather stolid thunders of their “Inasmuch.” The world, which + gives the lie to the law alike in its rejoicings, in its habits, and in + its pleasures, is severer than the Code and the Church; the world punishes + a blunder after encouraging hypocrisy. The whole economy of the law on + marriage seems to me to require reconstruction from the bottom to the top. + The French law would be perfect perhaps if it excluded daughters from + inheriting.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘We three among us know the question very thoroughly,’ said the Comte de + Grandville with a laugh. ‘I have a wife I cannot live with. Serizy has a + wife who will not live with him. As for you, Octave, yours ran away from + you. So we three represent every case of the conjugal conscience, and, no + doubt, if ever divorce is brought in again, we shall form the committee.’ + </p> + <p> + “Octave’s fork dropped on his glass, broke it, and broke his plate. He had + turned as pale as death, and flashed a thunderous glare at M. de + Grandville, by which he hinted at my presence, and which I caught. + </p> + <p> + “‘Forgive me, my dear fellow. I did not see Maurice,’ the President went + on. ‘Serizy and I, after being the witnesses to your marriage, became your + accomplices; I did not think I was committing an indiscretion in the + presence of these two venerable priests.’ + </p> + <p> + “M. de Serizy changed the subject by relating all he had done to please + his wife without ever succeeding. The old man concluded that it was + impossible to regulate human sympathies and antipathies; he maintained + that social law was never more perfect than when it was nearest to natural + law. Now Nature takes no account of the affinities of souls; her aim is + fulfilled by the propagation of the species. Hence, the Code, in its + present form, was wise in leaving a wide latitude to chance. The + incapacity of daughters to inherit so long as there were male heirs was an + excellent provision, whether to hinder the degeneration of the race, or to + make households happier by abolishing scandalous unions and giving the + sole preference to moral qualities and beauty. + </p> + <p> + “‘But then,’ he exclaimed, lifting his hand with a gesture of disgust, + ‘how are we to perfect legislation in a country which insists on bringing + together seven or eight hundred legislators!—After all, if I am + sacrificed,’ he added, ‘I have a child to succeed me.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Setting aside all the religious question,’ my uncle said, ‘I would + remark to your Excellency that Nature only owes us life, and that it is + society that owes us happiness. Are you a father?’ asked my uncle. + </p> + <p> + “‘And I—have I any children?’ said Comte Octave in a hollow voice, + and his tone made such an impression that there was no more talk of wives + or marriage. + </p> + <p> + “When coffee had been served, the two Counts and the two priests stole + away, seeing that poor Octave had fallen into a fit of melancholy which + prevented his noticing their disappearance. My patron was sitting in an + armchair by the fire, in the attitude of a man crushed. + </p> + <p> + “‘You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we + were alone. ‘After three years of married life, one evening when I came in + I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The letter + did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to preserve some + virtues even when committing that horrible sin.—The story is now + that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she is supposed to be + dead. I have lived alone for seven years!—Enough for this evening, + Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown used to the idea + of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a chronic disease, it needs + time to become accustomed to improvement. That improvement often seems to + be merely another aspect of the complaint.’ + </p> + <p> + “I went to bed greatly agitated; for the mystery, far from being + explained, seemed to me more obscure than ever. I foresaw some strange + drama indeed, for I understood that there could be no vulgar difference + between the woman that Count could choose and such a character as his. The + events which had driven the Countess to leave a man so noble, so amiable, + so perfect, so loving, so worthy to be loved, must have been singular, to + say the least. M. de Grandville’s remark had been like a torch flung into + the caverns over which I had so long been walking; and though the flame + lighted them but dimly, my eyes could perceive their wide extent! I could + imagine the Count’s sufferings without knowing their depths or their + bitterness. That sallow face, those parched temples, those overwhelming + studies, those moments of absentmindedness, the smallest details of the + life of this married bachelor, all stood out in luminous relief during the + hour of mental questioning, which is, as it were, the twilight before + sleep, and to which any man would have given himself up, as I did. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! how I loved my poor master! He seemed to me sublime. I read a poem of + melancholy, I saw perpetual activity in the heart I had accused of being + torpid. Must not supreme grief always come at last to stagnation? Had this + judge, who had so much in his power, ever revenged himself? Was he feeding + himself on her long agony? Is it not a remarkable thing in Paris to keep + anger always seething for ten years? What had Octave done since this great + misfortune—for the separation of husband and wife is a great + misfortune in our day, when domestic life has become a social question, + which it never was of old? + </p> + <p> + “We allowed a few days to pass on the watch, for great sorrows have a + diffidence of their own; but at last, one evening, the Count said in a + grave voice: + </p> + <p> + “‘Stay.’ + </p> + <p> + “This, as nearly as may be, is his story. + </p> + <p> + “‘My father had a ward, rich and lovely, who was sixteen at the time when + I came back from college to live in this old house. Honorine, who had been + brought up by my mother, was just awakening to life. Full of grace and of + childish ways, she dreamed of happiness as she would have dreamed of + jewels; perhaps happiness seemed to her the jewel of the soul. Her piety + was not free from puerile pleasures; for everything, even religion, was + poetry to her ingenuous heart. She looked to the future as a perpetual + fete. Innocent and pure, no delirium had disturbed her dream. Shame and + grief had never tinged her cheek nor moistened her eye. She did not even + inquire into the secret of her involuntary emotions on a fine spring day. + And then, she felt that she was weak and destined to obedience, and she + awaited marriage without wishing for it. Her smiling imagination knew + nothing of the corruption—necessary perhaps—which literature + imparts by depicting the passions; she knew nothing of the world, and was + ignorant of all the dangers of society. The dear child had suffered so + little that she had not even developed her courage. In short, her + guilelessness would have led her to walk fearless among serpents, like the + ideal figure of Innocence a painter once created. We lived together like + two brothers. + </p> + <p> + “‘At the end of a year I said to her one day, in the garden of this house, + by the basin, as we stood throwing crumbs to the fish: + </p> + <p> + “‘"Would you like that we should be married? With me you could do whatever + you please, while another man would make you unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + “‘"Mamma,” said she to my mother, who came out to join us, “Octave and I + have agreed to be married——” + </p> + <p> + “‘"What! at seventeen?” said my mother. “No, you must wait eighteen + months; and if eighteen months hence you like each other, well, your birth + and fortunes are equal, you can make a marriage which is suitable, as well + as being a love match.” + </p> + <p> + “‘When I was six-and-twenty, and Honorine nineteen, we were married. Our + respect for my father and mother, old folks of the Bourbon Court, hindered + us from making this house fashionable, or renewing the furniture; we lived + on, as we had done in the past, as children. However, I went into society; + I initiated my wife into the world of fashion; and I regarded it as one of + my duties to instruct her. + </p> + <p> + “‘I recognized afterwards that marriages contracted under such + circumstances as ours bear in themselves a rock against which many + affections are wrecked, many prudent calculations, many lives. The husband + becomes a pedagogue, or, if you like, a professor, and love perishes under + the rod which, sooner or later, gives pain; for a young and handsome wife, + at once discreet and laughter-loving, will not accept any superiority + above that with which she is endowed by nature. Perhaps I was in the + wrong? During the difficult beginnings of a household I, perhaps, assumed + a magisterial tone? On the other hand, I may have made the mistake of + trusting too entirely to that artless nature; I kept no watch over the + Countess, in whom revolt seemed to me impossible? Alas! neither in + politics nor in domestic life has it yet been ascertained whether empires + and happiness are wrecked by too much confidence or too much severity! + Perhaps again, the husband failed to realize Honorine’s girlish dreams? + Who can tell, while happy days last, what precepts he has neglected?’ + </p> + <p> + “I remember only the broad outlines of the reproaches the Count addressed + to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking the cause of a + disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but his merciful + indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus Christ when He + rescued the woman taken in adultery. + </p> + <p> + “‘It was eighteen months after my father’s death—my mother followed + him to the tomb in a few months—when the fearful night came which + surprised me by Honorine’s farewell letter. What poetic delusion had + seduced my wife? Was it through her senses? Was it the magnetism of + misfortune or of genius? Which of these powers had taken her by storm or + misled her?—I would not know. The blow was so terrible, that for a + month I remained stunned. Afterwards, reflection counseled me to continue + in ignorance, and Honorine’s misfortunes have since taught me too much + about all these things.—So far, Maurice, the story is commonplace + enough; but one word will change it all: I love Honorine, I have never + ceased to worship her. From the day when she left me I have lived on + memory; one by one I recall the pleasures for which Honorine no doubt had + no taste. + </p> + <p> + “‘Oh!’ said he, seeing the amazement in my eyes, ‘do not make a hero of + me, do not think me such a fool, as the Colonel of the Empire would say, + as to have sought no diversion. Alas, my boy! I was either too young or + too much in love; I have not in the whole world met with another woman. + After frightful struggles with myself, I tried to forget; money in hand, I + stood on the very threshold of infidelity, but there the memory of + Honorine rose before me like a white statue. As I recalled the infinite + delicacy of that exquisite skin, through which the blood might be seen + coursing and the nerves quivering; as I saw in fancy that ingenuous face, + as guileless on the eve of my sorrows as on the day when I said to her, + “Shall we marry?” as I remembered a heavenly fragrance, the very odor of + virtue, and the light in her eyes, the prettiness of her movements, I fled + like a man preparing to violate a tomb, who sees emerging from it the + transfigured soul of the dead. At consultations, in Court, by night, I + dream so incessantly of Honorine that only by excessive strength of mind + do I succeed in attending to what I am doing and saying. This is the + secret of my labors. + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, I felt no more anger with her than a father can feel on seeing his + beloved child in some danger it has imprudently rushed into. I understood + that I had made a poem of my wife—a poem I delighted in with such + intoxication, that I fancied she shared the intoxication. Ah! Maurice, an + indiscriminating passion in a husband is a mistake that may lead to any + crime in a wife. I had no doubt left all the faculties of this child, + loved as a child, entirely unemployed; I had perhaps wearied her with my + love before the hour of loving had struck for her! Too young to understand + that in the constancy of the wife lies the germ of the mother’s devotion, + she mistook this first test of marriage for life itself, and the + refractory child cursed life, unknown to me, nor daring to complain to me, + out of sheer modesty perhaps! In so cruel a position she would be + defenceless against any man who stirred her deeply.—And I, so wise a + judge as they say—I, who have a kind heart, but whose mind was + absorbed—I understood too late these unwritten laws of the woman’s + code, I read them by the light of the fire that wrecked my roof. Then I + constituted my heart a tribunal by virtue of the law, for the law makes + the husband a judge: I acquitted my wife, and I condemned myself. But love + took possession of me as a passion, the mean, despotic passion which comes + over some old men. At this day I love the absent Honorine as a man of + sixty loves a woman whom he must possess at any cost, and yet I feel the + strength of a young man. I have the insolence of the old man and the + reserve of a boy.—My dear fellow, society only laughs at such a + desperate conjugal predicament. Where it pities a lover, it regards a + husband as ridiculously inept; it makes sport of those who cannot keep the + woman they have secured under the canopy of the Church, and before the + Maire’s scarf of office. And I had to keep silence. + </p> + <p> + “‘Serizy is happy. His indulgence allows him to see his wife; he can + protect and defend her; and, as he adores her, he knows all the perfect + joys of a benefactor whom nothing can disturb, not even ridicule, for he + pours it himself on his fatherly pleasures. “I remain married only for my + wife’s sake,” he said to me one day on coming out of court. + </p> + <p> + “‘But I—I have nothing; I have not even to face ridicule, I who live + solely on a love which is starving! I who can never find a word to say to + a woman of the world! I who loathe prostitution! I who am faithful under a + spell!—But for my religious faith, I should have killed myself. I + have defied the gulf of hard work; I have thrown myself into it, and come + out again alive, fevered, burning, bereft of sleep!——’ + </p> + <p> + “I cannot remember all the words of this eloquent man, to whom passion + gave an eloquence indeed so far above that of the pleader that, as I + listened to him, I, like him, felt my cheeks wet with tears. You may + conceive of my feelings when, after a pause, during which we dried them + away, he finished his story with this revelation:— + </p> + <p> + “‘This is the drama of my soul, but it is not the actual living drama + which is at this moment being acted in Paris! The interior drama interests + nobody. I know it; and you will one day admit that it is so, you, who at + this moment shed tears with me; no one can burden his heart or his skin + with another’s pain. The measure of our sufferings is in ourselves.—You + even understand my sorrows only by very vague analogy. Could you see me + calming the most violent frenzy of despair by the contemplation of a + miniature in which I can see and kiss her brow, the smile on her lips, the + shape of her face, can breathe the whiteness of her skin; which enables me + almost to feel, to play with the black masses of her curling hair?—Could + you see me when I leap with hope—when I writhe under the myriad + darts of despair—when I tramp through the mire of Paris to quell my + irritation by fatigue? I have fits of collapse comparable to those of a + consumptive patient, moods of wild hilarity, terrors as of a murderer who + meets a sergeant of police. In short, my life is a continual paroxysm of + fears, joy, and dejection. + </p> + <p> + “‘As to the drama—it is this. You imagine that I am occupied with + the Council of State, the Chamber, the Courts, Politics.—Why, dear + me, seven hours at night are enough for all that, so much are my faculties + overwrought by the life I lead! Honorine is my real concern. To recover my + wife is my only study; to guard her in her cage, without her suspecting + that she is in my power; to satisfy her needs, to supply the little + pleasure she allows herself, to be always about her like a sylph without + allowing her to see or to suspect me, for if she did, the future would be + lost,—that is my life, my true life.—For seven years I have + never gone to bed without going first to see the light of her night-lamp, + or her shadow on the window curtains. + </p> + <p> + “‘She left my house, choosing to take nothing but the dress she wore that + day. The child carried her magnanimity to the point of folly! + Consequently, eighteen months after her flight she was deserted by her + lover, who was appalled by the cold, cruel, sinister, and revolting aspect + of poverty—the coward! The man had, no doubt, counted on the easy + and luxurious life in Switzerland or Italy which fine ladies indulge in + when they leave their husbands. Honorine has sixty thousand francs a year + of her own. The wretch left the dear creature expecting an infant, and + without a penny. In the month of November 1820 I found means to persuade + the best <i>accoucheur</i> in Paris to play the part of a humble suburban + apothecary. I induced the priest of the parish in which the Countess was + living to supply her needs as though he were performing an act of charity. + Then to hide my wife, to secure her against discovery, to find her a + housekeeper who would be devoted to me and be my intelligent confidante—it + was a task worthy of Figaro! You may suppose that to discover where my + wife had taken refuge I had only to make up my mind to it. + </p> + <p> + “‘After three months of desperation rather than despair, the idea of + devoting myself to Honorine with God only in my secret, was one of those + poems which occur only to the heart of a lover through life and death! + Love must have its daily food. And ought I not to protect this child, + whose guilt was the outcome of my imprudence, against fresh disaster—to + fulfil my part, in short, as a guardian angel?—At the age of seven + months her infant died, happily for her and for me. For nine months more + my wife lay between life and death, deserted at the time when she most + needed a manly arm; but this arm,’ said he, holding out his own with a + gesture of angelic dignity, ‘was extended over her head. Honorine was + nursed as she would have been in her own home. When, on her recovery, she + asked how and by whom she had been assisted, she was told—“By the + Sisters of Charity in the neighborhood—by the Maternity Society—by + the parish priest, who took an interest in her.” + </p> + <p> + “‘This woman, whose pride amounts to a vice, has shown a power of + resistance in misfortune, which on some evenings I call the obstinacy of a + mule. Honorine was bent on earning her living. My wife works! For five + years past I have lodged her in the Rue Saint-Maur, in a charming little + house, where she makes artificial flowers and articles of fashion. She + believes that she sells the product of her elegant fancywork to a shop, + where she is so well paid that she makes twenty francs a day, and in these + six years she had never had a moment’s suspicion. She pays for everything + she needs at about the third of its value, so that on six thousand francs + a year she lives as if she had fifteen thousand. She is devoted to + flowers, and pays a hundred crowns to a gardener, who costs me twelve + hundred in wages, and sends me in a bill for two thousand francs every + three months. I have promised the man a market-garden with a house on it + close to the porter’s lodge in the Rue Saint-Maur. I hold this ground in + the name of a clerk of the law courts. The smallest indiscretion would + ruin the gardener’s prospects. Honorine has her little house, a garden, + and a splendid hothouse, for a rent of five hundred francs a year. There + she lives under the name of her housekeeper, Madame Gobain, the old woman + of impeccable discretion whom I was so lucky as to find, and whose + affection Honorine has won. But her zeal, like that of the gardener, is + kept hot by the promise of reward at the moment of success. The porter and + his wife cost me dreadfully dear for the same reasons. However, for three + years Honorine has been happy, believing that she owes to her own toil all + the luxury of flowers, dress, and comfort. + </p> + <p> + “‘Oh! I know what you are about to say,’ cried the Count, seeing a + question in my eyes and on my lips. ‘Yes, yes; I have made the attempt. My + wife was formerly living in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. One day when, from + what Gobain told me, I believed in some chance of a reconciliation, I + wrote by post a letter, in which I tried to propitiate my wife—a + letter written and re-written twenty times! I will not describe my + agonies. I went from the Rue Payenne to the Rue de Reuilly like a + condemned wretch going from the Palais de Justice to his execution, but he + goes on a cart, and I was on foot. It was dark—there was a fog; I + went to meet Madame Gobain, who was to come and tell me what my wife had + done. Honorine, on recognizing my writing, had thrown the letter into the + fire without reading it.—“Madame Gobain,” she had exclaimed, “I + leave this to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “‘What a dagger-stroke was this to a man who found inexhaustible pleasure + in the trickery by which he gets the finest Lyons velvet at twelve francs + a yard, a pheasant, a fish, a dish of fruit, for a tenth of their value, + for a woman so ignorant as to believe that she is paying ample wages with + two hundred and fifty francs to Madame Gobain, a cook fit for a bishop. + </p> + <p> + “‘You have sometimes found me rubbing my hands in the enjoyment of a sort + of happiness. Well, I had just succeeded in some ruse worthy of the stage. + I had just deceived my wife—I had sent her by a purchaser of + wardrobes an Indian shawl, to be offered to her as the property of an + actress who had hardly worn it, but in which I—the solemn lawyer + whom you know—had wrapped myself for a night! In short, my life at + this day may be summed up in the two words which express the extremes of + torment—I love, and I wait! I have in Madame Gobain a faithful spy + on the heart I worship. I go every evening to chat with the old woman, to + hear from her all that Honorine has done during the day, the lightest word + she has spoken, for a single exclamation might betray to me the secrets of + that soul which is wilfully deaf and dumb. Honorine is pious; she attends + the Church services and prays, but she has never been to confession or + taken the Communion; she foresees what a priest would tell her. She will + not listen to the advice, to the injunction, that she should return to me. + This horror of me overwhelms me, dismays me, for I have never done her the + smallest harm. I have always been kind to her. Granting even that I may + have been a little hasty when teaching her, that my man’s irony may have + hurt her legitimate girlish pride, is that a reason for persisting in a + determination which only the most implacable hatred could have inspired? + Honorine has never told Madame Gobain who she is; she keeps absolute + silence as to her marriage, so that the worthy and respectable woman can + never speak a word in my favor, for she is the only person in the house + who knows my secret. The others know nothing; they live under the awe + caused by the name of the Prefect of Police, and their respect for the + power of a Minister. Hence it is impossible for me to penetrate that + heart; the citadel is mine, but I cannot get into it. I have not a single + means of action. An act of violence would ruin me for ever. + </p> + <p> + “‘How can I argue against reasons of which I know nothing? Should I write + a letter, and have it copied by a public writer, and laid before Honorine? + But that would be to run the risk of a third removal. The last cost me + fifty thousand francs. The purchase was made in the first instance in the + name of the secretary whom you succeeded. The unhappy man, who did not + know how lightly I sleep, was detected by me in the act of opening a box + in which I had put the private agreement; I coughed, and he was seized + with a panic; next day I compelled him to sell the house to the man in + whose name it now stands, and I turned him out. + </p> + <p> + “‘If it were not that I feel all my noblest faculties as a man satisfied, + happy, expansive; if the part I am playing were not that of divine + fatherhood; if I did not drink in delight by every pore, there are moments + when I should believe that I was a monomaniac. Sometimes at night I hear + the jingling bells of madness. I dread the violent transitions from a + feeble hope, which sometimes shines and flashes up, to complete despair, + falling as low as man can fall. A few days since I was seriously + considering the horrible end of the story of Lovelace and Clarissa + Harlowe, and saying to myself, if Honorine were the mother of a child of + mine, must she not necessarily return under her husband’s roof? + </p> + <p> + “‘And I have such complete faith in a happy future, that ten months ago I + bought and paid for one of the handsomest houses in the Faubourg + Saint-Honore. If I win back Honorine, I will not allow her to see this + house again, nor the room from which she fled. I mean to place my idol in + a new temple, where she may feel that life is altogether new. That house + is being made a marvel of elegance and taste. I have been told of a poet + who, being almost mad with love for an actress, bought the handsomest bed + in Paris without knowing how the actress would reward his passion. Well, + one of the coldest of lawyers, a man who is supposed to be the gravest + adviser of the Crown, was stirred to the depths of his heart by that + anecdote. The orator of the Legislative Chamber can understand the poet + who fed his ideal on material possibilities. Three days before the arrival + of Maria Louisa, Napoleon flung himself on his wedding bed at Compiegne. + All stupendous passions have the same impulses. I love as a poet—as + an emperor!’ + </p> + <p> + “As I heard the last words, I believed that Count Octave’s fears were + realized; he had risen, and was walking up and down, and gesticulating, + but he stopped as if shocked by the vehemence of his own words. + </p> + <p> + “‘I am very ridiculous,’ he added, after a long pause, looking at me, as + if craving a glance of pity. + </p> + <p> + “‘No, monsieur, you are very unhappy.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Ah yes!’ said he, taking up the thread of his confidences. ‘From the + violence of my speech you may, you must believe in the intensity of a + physical passion which for nine years has absorbed all my faculties; but + that is nothing in comparison with the worship I feel for the soul, the + mind, the heart, all in that woman; the enchanting divinities in the train + of Love, with whom we pass our life, and who form the daily poem of a + fugitive delight. By a phenomenon of retrospection I see now the graces of + Honorine’s mind and heart, to which I paid little heed in the time of my + happiness—like all who are happy. From day to day I have appreciated + the extent of my loss, discovering the exquisite gifts of that capricious + and refractory young creature who has grown so strong and so proud under + the heavy hand of poverty and the shock of the most cowardly desertion. + And that heavenly blossom is fading in solitude and hiding!—Ah! The + law of which we were speaking,’ he went on with bitter irony, ‘the law is + a squad of gendarmes—my wife seized and dragged away by force! Would + not that be to triumph over a corpse? Religion has no hold on her; she + craves its poetry, she prays, but she does not listen to the commandments + of the Church. I, for my part, have exhausted everything in the way of + mercy, of kindness, of love; I am at my wits’ end. Only one chance of + victory is left to me; the cunning and patience with which bird-catchers + at last entrap the wariest birds, the swiftest, the most capricious, and + the rarest. Hence, Maurice, when M. de Grandville’s indiscretion betrayed + to you the secret of my life, I ended by regarding this incident as one of + the decrees of fate, one of the utterances for which gamblers listen and + pray in the midst of their most impassioned play.... Have you enough + affection for me to show me romantic devotion?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I see what you are coming to, Monsieur le Comte,’ said I, interrupting + him; ‘I guess your purpose. Your first secretary tried to open your deed + box. I know the heart of your second—he might fall in love with your + wife. And can you devote him to destruction by sending him into the fire? + Can any one put his hand into a brazier without burning it?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘You are a foolish boy,’ replied the Count. ‘I will send you well gloved. + It is no secretary of mine that will be lodged in the Rue Saint-Maur in + the little garden-house which I have at his disposal. It is my distant + cousin, Baron de l’Hostal, a lawyer high in office...” + </p> + <p> + “After a moment of silent surprise, I heard the gate bell ring, and a + carriage came into the courtyard. Presently the footman announced Madame + de Courteville and her daughter. The Count had a large family connection + on his mother’s side. Madame de Courteville, his cousin, was the widow of + a judge on the bench of the Seine division, who had left her a daughter + and no fortune whatever. What could a woman of nine-and-twenty be in + comparison with a young girl of twenty, as lovely as imagination could + wish for an ideal mistress? + </p> + <p> + “‘Baron, and Master of Appeals, till you get something better, and this + old house settled on her,—would not you have enough good reasons for + not falling in love with the Countess?’ he said to me in a whisper, as he + took me by the hand and introduced me to Madame de Courteville and her + daughter. + </p> + <p> + “I was dazzled, not so much by these advantages of which I had never + dreamed, but by Amelie de Courteville, whose beauty was thrown into relief + by one of those well-chosen toilets which a mother can achieve for a + daughter when she wants to see her married. + </p> + <p> + “But I will not talk of myself,” said the Consul after a pause. + </p> + <p> + “Three weeks later I went to live in the gardener’s cottage, which had + been cleaned, repaired, and furnished with the celerity which is explained + by three words: Paris; French workmen; money! I was as much in love as the + Count could possibly desire as a security. Would the prudence of a young + man of five-and-twenty be equal to the part I was undertaking, involving a + friend’s happiness? To settle that matter, I may confess that I counted + very much on my uncle’s advice; for I had been authorized by the Count to + take him into confidence in any case where I deemed his interference + necessary. I engaged a garden; I devoted myself to horticulture; I worked + frantically, like a man whom nothing can divert, turning up the soil of + the market-garden, and appropriating the ground to the culture of flowers. + Like the maniacs of England, or of Holland, I gave it out that I was + devoted to one kind of flower, and especially grew dahlias, collecting + every variety. You will understand that my conduct, even in the smallest + details, was laid down for me by the Count, whose whole intellectual + powers were directed to the most trifling incidents of the tragi-comedy + enacted in the Rue Saint-Maur. As soon as the Countess had gone to bed, at + about eleven at night, Octave, Madame Gobain, and I sat in council. I + heard the old woman’s report to the Count of his wife’s least proceedings + during the day. He inquired into everything: her meals, her occupations, + her frame of mind, her plans for the morrow, the flowers she proposed to + imitate. I understood what love in despair may be when it is the threefold + passion of the heart, the mind, and the senses. Octave lived only for that + hour. + </p> + <p> + “During two months, while my work in the garden lasted, I never set eyes + on the little house where my fair neighbor dwelt. I had not even inquired + whether I had a neighbor, though the Countess’ garden was divided from + mine by a paling, along which she had planted cypress trees already four + feet high. One fine morning Madame Gobain announced to her mistress, as a + disastrous piece of news, the intention, expressed by an eccentric + creature who had become her neighbor, of building a wall between the two + gardens, at the end of the year. I will say nothing of the curiosity which + consumed me to see the Countess! The wish almost extinguished my budding + love for Amelie de Courteville. My scheme for building a wall was indeed a + dangerous threat. There would be no more fresh air for Honorine, whose + garden would then be a sort of narrow alley shut in between my wall and + her own little house. This dwelling, formerly a summer villa, was like a + house of cards; it was not more than thirty feet deep, and about a hundred + feet long. The garden front, painted in the German fashion, imitated a + trellis with flowers up to the second floor, and was really a charming + example of the Pompadour style, so well called rococo. A long avenue of + limes led up to it. The gardens of the pavilion and my plot of ground were + in the shape of a hatchet, of which this avenue was the handle. My wall + would cut away three-quarters of the hatchet. + </p> + <p> + “The Countess was in despair. + </p> + <p> + “‘My good Gobain,’ said she, ‘what sort of man is this florist?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘On my word,’ said the housekeeper, ‘I do not know whether it will be + possible to tame him. He seems to have a horror of women. He is the nephew + of a Paris cure. I have seen the uncle but once; a fine old man of sixty, + very ugly, but very amiable. It is quite possible that this priest + encourages his nephew, as they say in the neighborhood, in his love of + flowers, that nothing worse may happen——’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Why—what?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, your neighbor is a little cracked!’ said Gobain, tapping her head! + </p> + <p> + “Now a harmless lunatic is the only man whom no woman ever distrusts in + the matter of sentiment. You will see how wise the Count had been in + choosing this disguise for me. + </p> + <p> + “‘What ails him then?’ asked the Countess. + </p> + <p> + “‘He has studied too hard,’ replied Gobain; ‘he has turned misanthropic. + And he has his reasons for disliking women—well, if you want to know + all that is said about him——’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Well,’ said Honorine, ‘madmen frighten me less than sane folks; I will + speak to him myself! Tell him that I beg him to come here. If I do not + succeed, I will send for the cure.’ + </p> + <p> + “The day after this conversation, as I was walking along my graveled path, + I caught sight of the half-opened curtains on the first floor of the + little house, and of a woman’s face curiously peeping out. Madame Gobain + called me. I hastily glanced at the Countess’ house, and by a rude shrug + expressed, ‘What do I care for your mistress!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Madame,’ said Gobain, called upon to give an account of her errand, ‘the + madman bid me leave him in peace, saying that even a charcoal seller is + master in his own premises, especially when he has no wife.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘He is perfectly right,’ said the Countess. + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes, but he ended by saying, “I will go,” when I told him that he would + greatly distress a lady living in retirement, who found her greatest + solace in growing flowers.’ + </p> + <p> + “Next day a signal from Gobain informed me that I was expected. After the + Countess’ breakfast, when she was walking to and fro in front of her + house, I broke out some palings and went towards her. I had dressed myself + like a countryman, in an old pair of gray flannel trousers, heavy wooden + shoes, and shabby shooting coat, a peaked cap on my head, a ragged bandana + round my neck, hands soiled with mould, and a dibble in my hand. + </p> + <p> + “‘Madame,’ said the housekeeper, ‘this good man is your neighbor.’ + </p> + <p> + “The Countess was not alarmed. I saw at last the woman whom her own + conduct and her husband’s confidences had made me so curious to meet. It + was in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the + verdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting for + this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood Octave’s + passion and the truthfulness of his description, ‘A heavenly flower!’ + </p> + <p> + “Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white—for + there are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the + Countess, the eye seemed to feel that tender skin, where the blood flowed + in the blue veins. At the slightest emotion the blood mounted under the + surface in rosy flushes like a cloud. When we met, the sunshine, filtering + through the light foliage of the acacias, shed on Honorine the pale gold, + ambient glory in which Raphael and Titian, alone of all painters, have + been able to enwrap the Virgin. Her brown eyes expressed both tenderness + and vivacity; their brightness seemed reflected in her face through the + long downcast lashes. Merely by lifting her delicate eyelids, Honorine + could cast a spell; there was so much feeling, dignity, terror, or + contempt in her way of raising or dropping those veils of the soul. She + could freeze or give life by a look. Her light-brown hair, carelessly + knotted on her head, outlined a poet’s brow, high, powerful, and dreamy. + The mouth was wholly voluptuous. And to crown all by a grace, rare in + France, though common in Italy, all the lines and forms of the head had a + stamp of nobleness which would defy the outrages of time. + </p> + <p> + “Though slight, Honorine was not thin, and her figure struck me as being + one that might revive love when it believed itself exhausted. She + perfectly represented the idea conveyed by the word <i>mignonne</i>, for + she was one of those pliant little women who allow themselves to be taken + up, petted, set down, and taken up again like a kitten. Her small feet, as + I heard them on the gravel, made a light sound essentially their own, that + harmonized with the rustle of her dress, producing a feminine music which + stamped itself on the heart, and remained distinct from the footfall of a + thousand other women. Her gait bore all the quarterings of her race with + so much pride, that, in the street, the least respectful working man would + have made way for her. Gay and tender, haughty and imposing, it was + impossible to understand her, excepting as gifted with these apparently + incompatible qualities, which, nevertheless, had left her still a child. + But it was a child who might be as strong as an angel; and, like the + angel, once hurt in her nature, she would be implacable. + </p> + <p> + “Coldness on that face must no doubt be death to those on whom her eyes + had smiled, for whom her set lips had parted, for those whose soul had + drunk in the melody of that voice, lending to her words the poetry of song + by its peculiar intonation. Inhaling the perfume of violets that + accompanied her, I understood how the memory of this wife had arrested the + Count on the threshold of debauchery, and how impossible it would be ever + to forget a creature who really was a flower to the touch, a flower to the + eye, a flower of fragrance, a heavenly flower to the soul.... Honorine + inspired devotion, chivalrous devotion, regardless of reward. A man on + seeing her must say to himself: + </p> + <p> + “‘Think, and I will divine your thought; speak, and I will obey. If my + life, sacrificed in torments, can procure you one day’s happiness, take my + life, I will smile like a martyr at the stake, for I shall offer that day + to God, as a token to which a father responds on recognizing a gift to his + child.’ Many women study their expression, and succeed in producing + effects similar to those which would have struck you at first sight of the + Countess; only, in her, it was all the outcome of a delightful nature, + that inimitable nature went at once to the heart. If I tell you all this, + it is because her soul, her thoughts, the exquisiteness of her heart, are + all we are concerned with, and you would have blamed me if I had not + sketched them for you. + </p> + <p> + “I was very near forgetting my part as a half-crazy lout, clumsy, and by + no means chivalrous. + </p> + <p> + “‘I am told, madame, that you are fond of flowers?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I am an artificial flower-maker,’ said she. ‘After growing flowers, I + imitate them, like a mother who is artist enough to have the pleasure of + painting her children.... That is enough to tell you that I am poor and + unable to pay for the concession I am anxious to obtain from you?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘But how,’ said I, as grave as a judge, ‘can a lady of such rank as yours + would seem to be, ply so humble a calling? Have you, like me, good reasons + for employing your fingers so as to keep your brains from working?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Let us stick to the question of the wall,’ said she, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “‘Why, we have begun at the foundations,’ said I. ‘Must not I know which + of us ought to yield to the other in behalf of our suffering, or, if you + choose, of our mania?—Oh! what a charming clump of narcissus! They + are as fresh as this spring morning!’ + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, she had made for herself a perfect museum of flowers and + shrubs, which none might see but the sun, and of which the arrangement had + been prompted by the genius of an artist; the most heartless of landlords + must have treated it with respect. The masses of plants, arranged + according to their height, or in single clumps, were really a joy to the + soul. This retired and solitary garden breathed comforting scents, and + suggested none but sweet thoughts and graceful, nay, voluptuous pictures. + On it was set that inscrutable sign-manual, which our true character + stamps on everything, as soon as nothing compels us to obey the various + hypocrisies, necessary as they are, which Society insists on. I looked + alternately at the mass of narcissus and at the Countess, affecting to be + far more in love with the flowers than with her, to carry out my part. + </p> + <p> + “‘So you are very fond of flowers?’ said she. + </p> + <p> + “‘They are,’ I replied, ‘the only beings that never disappoint our cares + and affection.’ And I went on to deliver such a diatribe while comparing + botany and the world, that we ended miles away from the dividing wall, and + the Countess must have supposed me to be a wretched and wounded sufferer + worthy of her pity. However, at the end of half an hour my neighbor + naturally brought me back to the point; for women, when they are not in + love, have all the cold blood of an experienced attorney. + </p> + <p> + “‘If you insist on my leaving the paling,’ said I, ‘you will learn all the + secrets of gardening that I want to hide; I am seeking to grow a blue + dahlia, a blue rose; I am crazy for blue flowers. Is not blue the favorite + color of superior souls? We are neither of us really at home; we might as + well make a little door of open railings to unite our gardens.... You, + too, are fond of flowers; you will see mine, I shall see yours. If you + receive no visitors at all, I, for my part, have none but my uncle, the + Cure of the White Friars.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘No,’ said she, ‘I will give you the right to come into my garden, my + premises at any hour. Come and welcome; you will always be admitted as a + neighbor with whom I hope to keep on good terms. But I like my solitude + too well to burden it with any loss of independence.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘As you please,’ said I, and with one leap I was over the paling. + </p> + <p> + “‘Now, of what use would a door be?’ said I, from my own domain, turning + round to the Countess, and mocking her with a madman’s gesture and + grimace. + </p> + <p> + “For a fortnight I seemed to take no heed of my neighbor. Towards the end + of May, one lovely evening, we happened both to be out on opposite sides + of the paling, both walking slowly. Having reached the end, we could not + help exchanging a few civil words; she found me in such deep dejection, + lost in such painful meditations, that she spoke to me of hopefulness, in + brief sentences that sounded like the songs with which nurses lull their + babies. I then leaped the fence, and found myself for the second time at + her side. The Countess led me into the house, wishing to subdue my + sadness. So at last I had penetrated the sanctuary where everything was in + harmony with the woman I have tried to describe to you. + </p> + <p> + “Exquisite simplicity reigned there. The interior of the little house was + just such a dainty box as the art of the eighteenth century devised for + the pretty profligacy of a fine gentleman. The dining-room, on the ground + floor, was painted in fresco, with garlands of flowers, admirably and + marvelously executed. The staircase was charmingly decorated in + monochrome. The little drawing-room, opposite the dining-room, was very + much faded; but the Countess had hung it with panels of tapestry of + fanciful designs, taken off old screens. A bath-room came next. Upstairs + there was but one bedroom, with a dressing-room, and a library which she + used as her workroom. The kitchen was beneath in the basement on which the + house was raised, for there was a flight of several steps outside. The + balustrade of a balcony in garlands a la Pompadour concealed the roof; + only the lead cornices were visible. In this retreat one was a hundred + leagues from Paris. + </p> + <p> + “But for the bitter smile which occasionally played on the beautiful red + lips of this pale woman, it would have been possible to believe that this + violet buried in her thicket of flowers was happy. In a few days we had + reached a certain degree of intimacy, the result of our close neighborhood + and of the Countess’ conviction that I was indifferent to women. A look + would have spoilt all, and I never allowed a thought of her to be seen in + my eyes. Honorine chose to regard me as an old friend. Her manner to me + was the outcome of a kind of pity. Her looks, her voice, her words, all + showed that she was a hundred miles away from the coquettish airs which + the strictest virtue might have allowed under such circumstances. She soon + gave me the right to go into the pretty workshop where she made her + flowers, a retreat full of books and curiosities, as smart as a boudoir + where elegance emphasized the vulgarity of the tools of her trade. The + Countess had in the course of time poetized, as I may say, a thing which + is at the antipodes to poetry—a manufacture. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps of all the work a woman can do, the making of artificial flowers + is that of which the details allow her to display most grace. For coloring + prints she must sit bent over a table and devote herself, with some + attention, to this half painting. Embroidering tapestry, as diligently as + a woman must who is to earn her living by it, entails consumption or + curvature of the spine. Engraving music is one of the most laborious, by + the care, the minute exactitude, and the intelligence it demands. Sewing + and white embroidery do not earn thirty sous a day. But the making of + flowers and light articles of wear necessitates a variety of movements, + gestures, ideas even, which do not take a pretty woman out of her sphere; + she is still herself; she may chat, laugh, sing, or think. + </p> + <p> + “There was certainly a feeling for art in the way in which the Countess + arranged on a long deal table the myriad-colored petals which were used in + composing the flowers she was to produce. The saucers of color were of + white china, and always clean, arranged in such order that the eye could + at once see the required shade in the scale of tints. Thus the + aristocratic artist saved time. A pretty little cabinet with a hundred + tiny drawers, of ebony inlaid with ivory, contained the little steel + moulds in which she shaped the leaves and some forms of petals. A fine + Japanese bowl held the paste, which was never allowed to turn sour, and it + had a fitted cover with a hinge so easy that she could lift it with a + finger-tip. The wire, of iron and brass, lurked in a little drawer of the + table before her. + </p> + <p> + “Under her eyes, in a Venetian glass, shaped like a flower-cup on its + stem, was the living model she strove to imitate. She had a passion for + achievement; she attempted the most difficult things, close racemes, the + tiniest corollas, heaths, nectaries of the most variegated hues. Her + hands, as swift as her thoughts, went from the table to the flower she was + making, as those of an accomplished pianist fly over the keys. Her fingers + seemed to be fairies, to use Perrault’s expression, so infinite were the + different actions of twisting, fitting, and pressure needed for the work, + all hidden under grace of movement, while she adapted each motion to the + result with the lucidity of instinct. + </p> + <p> + “I could not tire of admiring her as she shaped a flower from the + materials sorted before her, padding the wire stem and adjusting the + leaves. She displayed the genius of a painter in her bold attempts; she + copied faded flowers and yellowing leaves; she struggled even with + wildflowers, the most artless of all, and the most elaborate in their + simplicity. + </p> + <p> + “‘This art,’ she would say, ‘is in its infancy. If the women of Paris had + a little of the genius which the slavery of the harem brings out in + Oriental women, they would lend a complete language of flowers to the + wreaths they wear on their head. To please my own taste as an artist I + have made drooping flowers with leaves of the hue of Florentine bronze, + such as are found before or after the winter. Would not such a crown on + the head of a young woman whose life is a failure have a certain poetical + fitness? How many things a woman might express by her head-dress! Are + there not flowers for drunken Bacchantes, flowers for gloomy and stern + bigots, pensive flowers for women who are bored? Botany, I believe, may be + made to express every sensation and thought of the soul, even the most + subtle.’ + </p> + <p> + “She would employ me to stamp out the leaves, cut up material, and prepare + wires for the stems. My affected desire for occupation made me soon + skilful. We talked as we worked. When I had nothing to do, I read new + books to her, for I had my part to keep up as a man weary of life, worn + out with griefs, gloomy, sceptical, and soured. My person led to adorable + banter as to my purely physical resemblance—with the exception of + his club foot—to Lord Byron. It was tacitly acknowledged that her + own troubles, as to which she kept the most profound silence, far + outweighed mine, though the causes I assigned for my misanthropy might + have satisfied Young or Job. + </p> + <p> + “I will say nothing of the feelings of shame which tormented me as I + inflicted on my heart, like the beggars in the street, false wounds to + excite the compassion of that enchanting woman. I soon appreciated the + extent of my devotedness by learning to estimate the baseness of a spy. + The expressions of sympathy bestowed on me would have comforted the + greatest grief. This charming creature, weaned from the world, and for so + many years alone, having, besides love, treasures of kindliness to bestow, + offered these to me with childlike effusiveness and such compassion as + would inevitably have filled with bitterness any profligate who should + have fallen in love with her; for, alas, it was all charity, all sheer + pity. Her renunciation of love, her dread of what is called happiness for + women, she proclaimed with equal vehemence and candor. These happy days + proved to me that a woman’s friendship is far superior to her love. + </p> + <p> + “I suffered the revelations of my sorrows to be dragged from me with as + many grimaces as a young lady allows herself before sitting down to the + piano, so conscious are they of the annoyance that will follow. As you may + imagine, the necessity for overcoming my dislike to speak had induced the + Countess to strengthen the bonds of our intimacy; but she found in me so + exact a counterpart of her own antipathy to love, that I fancied she was + well content with the chance which had brought to her desert island a sort + of Man Friday. Solitude was perhaps beginning to weigh on her. At the same + time, there was nothing of the coquette in her; nothing survived of the + woman; she did not feel that she had a heart, she told me, excepting in + the ideal world where she found refuge. I involuntarily compared these two + lives—hers and the Count’s:—his, all activity, agitation, and + emotion; hers, all inaction, quiescence, and stagnation. The woman and the + man were admirably obedient to their nature. My misanthropy allowed me to + utter cynical sallies against men and women both, and I indulged in them, + hoping to bring Honorine to the confidential point; but she was not to be + caught in any trap, and I began to understand that mulish obstinacy which + is commoner among women than is generally supposed. + </p> + <p> + “‘The Orientals are right,’ I said to her one evening, ‘when they shut you + up and regard you merely as the playthings of their pleasure. Europe has + been well punished for having admitted you to form an element of society + and for accepting you on an equal footing. In my opinion, woman is the + most dishonorable and cowardly being to be found. Nay, and that is where + her charm lies. Where would be the pleasure of hunting a tame thing? When + once a woman has inspired a man’s passion, she is to him for ever sacred; + in his eyes she is hedged round by an imprescriptible prerogative. In men + gratitude for past delights is eternal. Though he should find his mistress + grown old or unworthy, the woman still has rights over his heart; but to + you women the man you have loved is as nothing to you; nay, more, he is + unpardonable in one thing—he lives on! You dare not own it, but you + all have in your hearts the feeling which that popular calumny called + tradition ascribes to the Lady of the Tour de Nesle: “What a pity it is + that we cannot live on love as we live on fruit, and that when we have had + our fill, nothing should survive but the remembrance of pleasure!”’ + </p> + <p> + “‘God has, no doubt, reserved such perfect bliss for Paradise,’ said she. + ‘But,’ she added, ‘if your argument seems to you very witty, to me it has + the disadvantage of being false. What can those women be who give + themselves up to a succession of loves?’ she asked, looking at me as the + Virgin in Ingres’ picture looks at Louis XIII. offering her his kingdom. + </p> + <p> + “‘You are an actress in good faith,’ said I, ‘for you gave me a look just + now which would make the fame of an actress. Still, lovely as you are, you + have loved; <i>ergo</i>, you forget.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I!’ she exclaimed, evading my question, ‘I am not a woman. I am a nun, + and seventy-two years old!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Then, how can you so positively assert that you feel more keenly than I? + Sorrow has but one form for women. The only misfortunes they regard are + disappointments of the heart.’ + </p> + <p> + “She looked at me sweetly, and, like all women when stuck between the + issues of a dilemma, or held in the clutches of truth, she persisted, + nevertheless, in her wilfulness. + </p> + <p> + “‘I am a nun,’ she said, ‘and you talk to me of the world where I shall + never again set foot.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Not even in thought?’ said I. + </p> + <p> + “‘Is the world so much to be desired?’ she replied. ‘Oh! when my mind + wanders, it goes higher. The angel of perfection, the beautiful angel + Gabriel, often sings in my heart. If I were rich, I should work, all the + same, to keep me from soaring too often on the many-tinted wings of the + angel, and wandering in the world of fancy. There are meditations which + are the ruin of us women! I owe much peace of mind to my flowers, though + sometimes they fail to occupy me. On some days I find my soul invaded by a + purposeless expectancy; I cannot banish some idea which takes possession + of me, which seems to make my fingers clumsy. I feel that some great event + is impending, that my life is about to change; I listen vaguely, I stare + into the darkness, I have no liking for my work, and after a thousand + fatigues I find life once more—everyday life. Is this a warning from + heaven? I ask myself——’ + </p> + <p> + “After three months of this struggle between two diplomates, concealed + under the semblance of youthful melancholy, and a woman whose disgust of + life made her invulnerable, I told the Count that it was impossible to + drag this tortoise out of her shell; it must be broken. The evening + before, in our last quite friendly discussion, the Countess had exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “‘Lucretia’s dagger wrote in letters of blood the watchword of woman’s + charter: <i>Liberty!</i>’ + </p> + <p> + “From that moment the Count left me free to act. + </p> + <p> + “‘I have been paid a hundred francs for the flowers and caps I made this + week!’ Honorine exclaimed gleefully one Saturday evening when I went to + visit her in the little sitting-room on the ground floor, which the + unavowed proprietor had had regilt. + </p> + <p> + “It was ten o’clock. The twilight of July and a glorious moon lent us + their misty light. Gusts of mingled perfumes soothed the soul; the + Countess was clinking in her hand the five gold pieces given to her by a + supposititious dealer in fashionable frippery, another of Octave’s + accomplices found for him by a judge, M. Popinot. + </p> + <p> + “‘I earn my living by amusing myself,’ said she; ‘I am free, when men, + armed with their laws, have tried to make us slaves. Oh, I have transports + of pride every Saturday! In short, I like M. Gaudissart’s gold pieces as + much as Lord Byron, your double, liked Mr. Murray’s.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘This is not becoming in a woman,’ said I. + </p> + <p> + “‘Pooh! Am I a woman? I am a boy gifted with a soft soul, that is all; a + boy whom no woman can torture——’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Your life is the negation of your whole being,’ I replied. ‘What? You, + on whom God has lavished His choicest treasures of love and beauty, do you + never wish——’ + </p> + <p> + “‘For what?’ said she, somewhat disturbed by a speech which, for the first + time, gave the lie to the part I had assumed. + </p> + <p> + “‘For a pretty little child, with curling hair, running, playing among the + flowers, like a flower itself of life and love, and calling you mother!’ + </p> + <p> + “I waited for an answer. A too prolonged silence led me to perceive the + terrible effect of my words, though the darkness at first concealed it. + Leaning on her sofa, the Countess had not indeed fainted, but frozen under + a nervous attack of which the first chill, as gentle as everything that + was part of her, felt, as she afterwards said, like the influence of a + most insidious poison. I called Madame Gobain, who came and led away her + mistress, laid her on her bed, unlaced her, undressed her, and restored + her, not to life, it is true, but to the consciousness of some dreadful + suffering. I meanwhile walked up and down the path behind the house, + weeping, and doubting my success. I only wished to give up this part of + the bird-catcher which I had so rashly assumed. Madame Gobain, who came + down and found me with my face wet with tears, hastily went up again to + say to the Countess: + </p> + <p> + “‘What has happened, madame? Monsieur Maurice is crying like a child.’ + </p> + <p> + “Roused to action by the evil interpretation that might be put on our + mutual behavior, she summoned superhuman strength to put on a wrapper and + come down to me. + </p> + <p> + “‘You are not the cause of this attack,’ said she. ‘I am subject to these + spasms, a sort of cramp of the heart——’ + </p> + <p> + “‘And will you not tell me of your troubles?’ said I, in a voice which + cannot be affected, as I wiped away my tears. ‘Have you not just now told + me that you have been a mother, and have been so unhappy as to lose your + child?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Marie!’ she called as she rang the bell. Gobain came in. + </p> + <p> + “‘Bring lights and some tea,’ said she, with the calm decision of a Mylady + clothed in the armor of pride by the dreadful English training which you + know too well. + </p> + <p> + “When the housekeeper had lighted the tapers and closed the shutters, the + Countess showed me a mute countenance; her indomitable pride and gravity, + worthy of a savage, had already reasserted their mastery. She said: + </p> + <p> + “‘Do you know why I like Lord Byron so much? It is because he suffered as + animals do. Of what use are complaints when they are not an elegy like + Manfred’s, nor bitter mockery like Don Juan’s, nor a reverie like Childe + Harold’s? Nothing shall be known of me. My heart is a poem that I lay + before God.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘If I chose——’ said I. + </p> + <p> + “‘If?’ she repeated. + </p> + <p> + “‘I have no interest in anything,’ I replied, ‘so I cannot be inquisitive; + but, if I chose, I could know all your secrets by to-morrow.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I defy you!’ she exclaimed, with ill-disguised uneasiness. + </p> + <p> + “‘Seriously?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Certainly,’ said she, tossing her head. ‘If such a crime is possible, I + ought to know it.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘In the first place, madame,’ I went on, pointing to her hands, ‘those + pretty fingers, which are enough to show that you are not a mere girl—were + they made for toil? Then you call yourself Madame Gobain, you, who, in my + presence the other day on receiving a letter, said to Marie: “Here, this + is for you?” Marie is the real Madame Gobain; so you conceal your name + behind that of your housekeeper.—Fear nothing, madame, from me. You + have in me the most devoted friend you will ever have: Friend, do you + understand me? I give this word its sacred and pathetic meaning, so + profaned in France, where we apply it to our enemies. And your friend, who + will defend you against everything, only wishes that you should be as + happy as such a woman ought to be. Who can tell whether the pain I have + involuntarily caused you was not a voluntary act?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes,’ replied she with threatening audacity, ‘I insist on it. Be + curious, and tell me all that you can find out about me; but,’ and she + held up her finger, ‘you must also tell me by what means you obtain your + information. The preservation of the small happiness I enjoy here depends + on the steps you take.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘That means that you will fly——’ + </p> + <p> + “‘On wings!’ she cried, ‘to the New World——’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Where you will be at the mercy of the brutal passions you will inspire,’ + said I, interrupting her. ‘Is it not the very essence of genius and beauty + to shine, to attract men’s gaze, to excite desires and evil thoughts? + Paris is a desert with Bedouins; Paris is the only place in the world + where those who must work for their livelihood can hide their life. What + have you to complain of? Who am I? An additional servant—M. Gobain, + that is all. If you have to fight a duel, you may need a second.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Never mind; find out who I am. I have already said that I insist. Now, I + beg that you will,’ she went on, with the grace which you ladies have at + command,” said the Consul, looking at the ladies. + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, then, to-morrow, at the same hour, I will tell you what I may have + discovered,’ replied I. ‘But do not therefore hate me! Will you behave + like other women?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘What do other women do?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘They lay upon us immense sacrifices, and when we have made them, they + reproach us for it some time later as if it were an injury.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘They are right if the thing required appears to be a sacrifice!’ replied + she pointedly. + </p> + <p> + “‘Instead of sacrifices, say efforts and——’ + </p> + <p> + “‘It would be an impertinence,’ said she. + </p> + <p> + “‘Forgive me,’ said I. ‘I forget that woman and the Pope are infallible.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Good heavens!’ said she after a long pause, ‘only two words would be + enough to destroy the peace so dearly bought, and which I enjoy like a + fraud——’ + </p> + <p> + “She rose and paid no further heed to me. + </p> + <p> + “‘Where can I go?’ she said. ‘What is to become of me?—Must I leave + this quiet retreat, that I had arranged with such care to end my days in?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘To end your days!’ exclaimed I with visible alarm. ‘Has it never struck + you that a time would come when you could no longer work, when competition + will lower the price of flowers and articles of fashion——?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I have already saved a thousand crowns,’ she said. + </p> + <p> + “‘Heavens! what privations such a sum must represent!’ I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “‘Leave me,’ said she, ‘till to-morrow. This evening I am not myself; I + must be alone. Must I not save my strength in case of disaster? For, if + you should learn anything, others besides you would be informed, and then—Good-night,’ + she added shortly, dismissing me with an imperious gesture. + </p> + <p> + “‘The battle is to-morrow, then,’ I replied with a smile, to keep up the + appearance of indifference I had given to the scene. But as I went down + the avenue I repeated the words: + </p> + <p> + “‘The battle is to-morrow.’ + </p> + <p> + “Octave’s anxiety was equal to Honorine’s. The Count and I remained + together till two in the morning, walking to and fro by the trenches of + the Bastille, like two generals who, on the eve of a battle, calculate all + the chances, examine the ground, and perceive that the victory must depend + on an opportunity to be seized half-way through the fight. These two + divided beings would each lie awake, one in the hope, the other in + agonizing dread of reunion. The real dramas of life are not in + circumstances, but in feelings; they are played in the heart, or, if you + please, in that vast realm which we ought to call the Spiritual World. + Octave and Honorine moved and lived altogether in the world of lofty + spirits. + </p> + <p> + “I was punctual. At ten next evening I was, for the first time, shown into + a charming bedroom furnished with white and blue—the nest of this + wounded dove. The Countess looked at me, and was about to speak, but was + stricken dumb by my respectful demeanor. + </p> + <p> + “‘Madame la Comtesse,’ said I with a grave smile. + </p> + <p> + “The poor woman, who had risen, dropped back into her chair and remained + there, sunk in an attitude of grief, which I should have liked to see + perpetuated by a great painter. + </p> + <p> + “‘You are,’ I went on, ‘the wife of the noblest and most highly respected + of men; of a man who is acknowledged to be great, but who is far greater + in his conduct to you than he is in the eyes of the world. You and he are + two lofty natures.—Where do you suppose yourself to be living?’ I + asked her. + </p> + <p> + “‘In my own house,’ she replied, opening her eyes with a wide stare of + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “‘In Count Octave’s,’ I replied. ‘You have been tricked. M. Lenormand, the + usher of the Court, is not the real owner; he is only a screen for your + husband. The delightful seclusion you enjoy is the Count’s work, the money + you earn is paid by him, and his protection extends to the most trivial + details of your existence. Your husband has saved you in the eyes of the + world; he has assigned plausible reasons for your disappearance; he + professes to hope that you were not lost in the wreck of the <i>Cecile</i>, + the ship in which you sailed for Havana to secure the fortune to be left + to you by an old aunt, who might have forgotten you; you embarked, + escorted by two ladies of her family and an old man-servant. The Count + says that he has sent agents to various spots, and received letters which + give him great hopes. He takes as many precautions to hide you from all + eyes as you take yourself. In short, he obeys you...’ + </p> + <p> + “‘That is enough,’ she said. ‘I want to know but one thing more. From whom + have you obtained all these details?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, madame, my uncle got a place for a penniless youth as secretary to + the Commissary of police in this part of Paris. That young man told me + everything. If you leave this house this evening, however stealthily, your + husband will know where you are gone, and his care will follow you + everywhere.—How could a woman so clever as you are believe that + shopkeepers buy flowers and caps as dear as they sell them? Ask a thousand + crowns for a bouquet, and you will get it. No mother’s tenderness was ever + more ingenious than your husband’s! I have learned from the porter of this + house that the Count often comes behind the fence when all are asleep, to + see the glimmer of your nightlight! Your large cashmere shawl cost six + thousand francs—your old-clothes-seller brings you, as second hand, + things fresh from the best makers. In short, you are living here like + Venus in the toils of Vulcan; but you are alone in your prison by the + devices of a sublime magnanimity, sublime for seven years past, and at + every hour.’ + </p> + <p> + “The Countess was trembling as a trapped swallow trembles while, as you + hold it in your hand, it strains its neck to look about it with wild eyes. + She shook with a nervous spasm, studying me with a defiant look. Her dry + eyes glittered with a light that was almost hot: still, she was a woman! + The moment came when her tears forced their way, and she wept—not + because she was touched, but because she was helpless; they were tears of + desperation. She had believed herself independent and free; marriage + weighed on her as the prison cell does on the captive. + </p> + <p> + “‘I will go!’ she cried through her tears. ‘He forces me to it; I will go + where no one certainly will come after me.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘What,’ I said, ‘you would kill yourself?—Madame, you must have + some very powerful reasons for not wishing to return to Comte Octave.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Certainly I have!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, then, tell them to me; tell them to my uncle. In us you will find + two devoted advisers. Though in the confessional my uncle is a priest, he + never is one in a drawing-room. We will hear you; we will try to find a + solution of the problems you may lay before us; and if you are the dupe or + the victim of some misapprehension, perhaps we can clear the matter up. + Your soul, I believe, is pure; but if you have done wrong, your fault is + fully expiated.... At any rate, remember that in me you have a most + sincere friend. If you should wish to evade the Count’s tyranny, I will + find you the means; he shall never find you.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Oh! there is always a convent!’ said she. + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes. But the Count, as Minister of State, can procure your rejection by + every convent in the world. Even though he is powerful, I will save you + from him—; but—only when you have demonstrated to me that you + cannot and ought not to return to him. Oh! do not fear that you would + escape his power only to fall into mine,’ I added, noticing a glance of + horrible suspicion, full of exaggerated dignity. ‘You shall have peace, + solitude, and independence; in short, you shall be as free and as little + annoyed as if you were an ugly, cross old maid. I myself would never be + able to see you without your consent.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘And how? By what means?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘That is my secret. I am not deceiving you, of that you may be sure. + Prove to me that this is the only life you can lead, that it is preferable + to that of the Comtesse Octave, rich, admired, in one of the finest houses + in Paris, beloved by her husband, a happy mother... and I will decide in + your favor.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘But,’ said she, ‘will there never be a man who understands me?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘No. And that is why I appeal to religion to decide between us. The Cure + of the White Friars is a saint, seventy-five years of age. My uncle is not + a Grand Inquisitor, he is Saint John; but for you he will be Fenelon—the + Fenelon who said to the Duc de Bourgogne: ‘Eat a calf on a Friday by all + means, monseigneur. But be a Christian.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Nay, nay, monsieur, the convent is my last hope and my only refuge. + There is none but God who can understand me. No man, not Saint Augustine + himself, the tenderest of the Fathers of the Church, could enter into the + scruples of my conscience, which are to me as the circles of Dante’s hell, + whence there is no escape. Another than my husband, a different man, + however unworthy of the offering, has had all my love. No, he has not had + it, for he did not take it; I gave it him as a mother gives her child a + wonderful toy, which it breaks. For me there never could be two loves. In + some natures love can never be on trial; it is, or it is not. When it + comes, when it rises up, it is complete.—Well, that life of eighteen + months was to me a life of eighteen years; I threw into it all the + faculties of my being, which were not impoverished by their effusiveness; + they were exhausted by that delusive intimacy in which I alone was + genuine. For me the cup of happiness is not drained, nor empty; and + nothing can refill it, for it is broken. I am out of the fray; I have no + weapons left. Having thus utterly abandoned myself, what am I?—the + leavings of a feast. I had but one name bestowed on me, Honorine, as I had + but one heart. My husband had the young girl, a worthless lover had the + woman—there is nothing left!—Then let myself be loved! that is + the great idea you mean to utter to me. Oh! but I still am something, and + I rebel at the idea of being a prostitute! Yes, by the light of the + conflagration I saw clearly; and I tell you—well, I could imagine + surrendering to another man’s love, but to Octave’s?—No, never.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Ah! you love him,’ I said. + </p> + <p> + “‘I esteem him, respect him, venerate him; he never has done me the + smallest hurt; he is kind, he is tender; but I can never more love him. + However,’ she went on, ‘let us talk no more of this. Discussion makes + everything small. I will express my notions on this subject in writing to + you, for at this moment they are suffocating me; I am feverish, my feet + are standing in the ashes of my Paraclete. All that I see, these things + which I believed I had earned by my labor, now remind me of everything I + wish to forget. Ah! I must fly from hence as I fled from my home.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Where will you go?’ I asked. ‘Can a woman exist unprotected? At thirty, + in all the glory of your beauty, rich in powers of which you have no + suspicion, full of tenderness to be bestowed, are you prepared to live in + the wilderness where I could hide you?—Be quite easy. The Count, who + for nine years has never allowed himself to be seen here, will never go + there without your permission. You have his sublime devotion of nine years + as a guarantee for your tranquillity. You may therefore discuss the future + in perfect confidence with my uncle and me. My uncle has as much influence + as a Minister of State. So compose yourself; do not exaggerate your + misfortune. A priest whose hair has grown white in the exercise of his + functions is not a boy; you will be understood by him to whom every + passion has been confided for nearly fifty years now, and who weighs in + his hands the ponderous heart of kings and princes. If he is stern under + his stole, in the presence of your flowers he will be as tender as they + are, and as indulgent as his Divine Master.’ + </p> + <p> + “I left the Countess at midnight; she was apparently calm, but depressed, + and had some secret purpose which no perspicacity could guess. I found the + Count a few paces off, in the Rue Saint-Maur. Drawn by an irresistible + attraction, he had quitted the spot on the Boulevards where we had agreed + to meet. + </p> + <p> + “‘What a night my poor child will go through!’ he exclaimed, when I had + finished my account of the scene that had just taken place. ‘Supposing I + were to go to her!’ he added; ‘supposing she were to see me suddenly?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘At this moment she is capable of throwing herself out of the window,’ I + replied. ‘The Countess is one of those Lucretias who could not survive any + violence, even if it were done by a man into whose arms she could throw + herself.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘You are young,’ he answered; ‘you do not know that in a soul tossed by + such dreadful alternatives the will is like waters of a lake lashed by a + tempest; the wind changes every instant, and the waves are driven now to + one shore, now to the other. During this night the chances are quite as + great that on seeing me Honorine might rush into my arms as that she would + throw herself out of the window.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘And you would accept the equal chances,’ said I. + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, come,’ said he, ‘I have at home, to enable me to wait till + to-morrow, a dose of opium which Desplein prepared for me to send me to + sleep without any risk!’ + </p> + <p> + “Next day at noon Gobain brought me a letter, telling me that the Countess + had gone to bed at six, worn out with fatigue, and that, having taken a + soothing draught prepared by the chemist, she had now fallen asleep. + </p> + <p> + “This is her letter, of which I kept a copy—for you, mademoiselle,” + said the Consul, addressing Camille, “know all the resources of art, the + tricks of style, and the efforts made in their compositions by writers who + do not lack skill; but you will acknowledge that literature could never + find such language in its assumed pathos; there is nothing so terrible as + truth. Here is the letter written by this woman, or rather by this + anguish:— + </p> + <h3> + “‘MONSIEUR MAURICE,— + </h3> + <p> + “‘I know all your uncle would say to me; he is not better informed than my + own conscience. Conscience is the interpreter of God to man. I know that + if I am not reconciled to Octave, I shall be damned; that is the sentence + of religious law. Civil law condemns me to obey, cost what it may. If my + husband does not reject me, the world will regard me as pure, as virtuous, + whatever I may have done. Yes, that much is sublime in marriage; society + ratifies the husband’s forgiveness; but it forgets that the forgiveness + must be accepted. Legally, religiously, and from the world’s point of view + I ought to go back to Octave. Keeping only to the human aspect of the + question, is it not cruel to refuse him happiness, to deprive him of + children, to wipe his name out of the Golden Book and the list of peers? + My sufferings, my repugnance, my feelings, all my egoism—for I know + that I am an egoist—ought to be sacrificed to the family. I shall be + a mother; the caresses of my child will wipe away many tears! I shall be + very happy; I certainly shall be much looked up to. I shall ride, haughty + and wealthy, in a handsome carriage! I shall have servants and a fine + house, and be the queen of as many parties as there are weeks in the year. + The world will receive me handsomely. I shall not have to climb up again + to the heaven of aristocracy, I shall never have come down from it. So + God, the law, society are all in accord. + </p> + <p> + “‘"What are you rebelling against?” I am asked from the height of heaven, + from the pulpit, from the judge’s bench, and from the throne, whose august + intervention may at need be invoked by the Count. Your uncle, indeed, at + need, would speak to me of a certain celestial grace which will flood my + heart when I know the pleasure of doing my duty. + </p> + <p> + “‘God, the law, the world, and Octave all wish me to live, no doubt. Well, + if there is no other difficulty, my reply cuts the knot: I will not live. + I will become white and innocent again; for I will lie in my shroud, white + with the blameless pallor of death. This is not in the least “mulish + obstinacy.” That mulish obstinacy of which you jestingly accused me is in + a woman the result of confidence, of a vision of the future. Though my + husband, sublimely generous, may forget all, I shall not forget. Does + forgetfulness depend on our will? When a widow re-marries, love makes a + girl of her; she marries a man she loves. But I cannot love the Count. It + all lies in that, do not you see? + </p> + <p> + “‘Every time my eyes met his I should see my sin in them, even when his + were full of love. The greatness of his generosity would be the measure of + the greatness of my crime. My eyes, always uneasy, would be for ever + reading an invisible condemnation. My heart would be full of confused and + struggling memories; marriage can never move me to the cruel rapture, the + mortal delirium of passion. I should kill my husband by my coldness, by + comparisons which he would guess, though hidden in the depths of my + conscience. Oh! on the day when I should read a trace of involuntary, even + of suppressed reproach in a furrow on his brow, in a saddened look, in + some imperceptible gesture, nothing could hold me: I should be lying with + a fractured skull on the pavement, and find that less hard than my + husband. It might be my own over-susceptibility that would lead me to this + horrible but welcome death; I might die the victim of an impatient mood in + Octave caused by some matter of business, or be deceived by some unjust + suspicion. Alas! I might even mistake some proof of love for a sign of + contempt! + </p> + <p> + “‘What torture on both sides! Octave would be always doubting me, I + doubting him. I, quite involuntarily, should give him a rival wholly + unworthy of him, a man whom I despise, but with whom I have known raptures + branded on me with fire, which are my shame, but which I cannot forget. + </p> + <p> + “‘Have I shown you enough of my heart? No one, monsieur, can convince me + that love may be renewed, for I neither can nor will accept love from any + one. A young bride is like a plucked flower; but a guilty wife is like a + flower that had been walked over. You, who are a florist, you know whether + it is ever possible to restore the broken stem, to revive the faded + colors, to make the sap flow again in the tender vessels of which the + whole vegetative function lies in their perfect rigidity. If some botanist + should attempt the operation, could his genius smooth out the folds of the + bruised corolla? If he could remake a flower, he would be God! God alone + can remake me! I am drinking the bitter cup of expiation; but as I drink + it I painfully spell out this sentence: Expiation is not annihilation. + </p> + <p> + “‘In my little house, alone, I eat my bread soaked in tears; but no one + sees me eat nor sees me weep. If I go back to Octave, I must give up my + tears—they would offend him. Oh! monsieur, how many virtues must a + woman tread under foot, not to give herself, but to restore herself to a + betrayed husband? Who could count them? God alone; for He alone can know + and encourage the horrible refinements at which the angels must turn pale. + Nay, I will go further. A woman has courage in the presence of her husband + if he knows nothing; she shows a sort of fierce strength in her hypocrisy; + she deceives him to secure him double happiness. But common knowledge is + surely degrading. Supposing I could exchange humiliation for ecstasy? + Would not Octave at last feel that my consent was sheer depravity? + Marriage is based on esteem, on sacrifices on both sides; but neither + Octave nor I could esteem each other the day after our reunion. He would + have disgraced me by a love like that of an old man for a courtesan, and I + should for ever feel the shame of being a chattel instead of a lady. I + should represent pleasure, and not virtue, in his house. These are the + bitter fruits of such a sin. I have made myself a bed where I can only + toss on burning coals, a sleepless pillow. + </p> + <p> + “‘Here, when I suffer, I bless my sufferings; I say to God, “I thank + Thee!” But in my husband’s house I should be full of terror, tasting joys + to which I have no right. + </p> + <p> + “‘All this, monsieur, is not argument; it is the feeling of a soul made + vast and hollow by seven years of suffering. Finally, must I make a + horrible confession? I shall always feel at my bosom the lips of a child + conceived in rapture and joy, and in the belief in happiness, of a child I + nursed for seven months, that I shall bear in my womb all the days of my + life. If other children should draw their nourishment from me, they would + drink in tears mingling with the milk, and turning it sour. I seem a light + thing, you regard me as a child—Ah yes! I have a child’s memory, the + memory which returns to us on the verge of the tomb. So, you see, there is + not a situation in that beautiful life to which the world and my husband’s + love want to recall me, which is not a false position, which does not + cover a snare or reveal a precipice down which I must fall, torn by + pitiless rocks. For five years now I have been wandering in the sandy + desert of the future without finding a place convenient to repent in, + because my soul is possessed by true repentance. + </p> + <p> + “‘Religion has its answers ready to all this, and I know them by heart. + This suffering, these difficulties, are my punishment, she says, and God + will give me strength to endure them. This, monsieur, is an argument to + certain pious souls gifted with an energy which I have not. I have made my + choice between this hell, where God does not forbid my blessing Him, and + the hell that awaits me under Count Octave’s roof. + </p> + <p> + “‘One word more. If I were still a girl, with the experience I now have, + my husband is the man I should choose; but that is the very reason of my + refusal. I could not bear to blush before that man. What! I should be + always on my knees, he always standing upright; and if we were to exchange + positions, I should scorn him! I will not be better treated by him in + consequence of my sin. The angel who might venture under such + circumstances on certain liberties which are permissible when both are + equally blameless, is not on earth; he dwells in heaven! Octave is full of + delicate feeling, I know; but even in his soul (which, however generous, + is a man’s soul after all) there is no guarantee for the new life I should + lead with him. + </p> + <p> + “‘Come then, and tell me where I may find the solitude, the peace, the + silence, so kindly to irreparable woes, which you promised me.’ + </p> + <p> + “After making this copy of the letter to preserve it complete, I went to + the Rue Payenne. Anxiety had conquered the power of opium. Octave was + walking up and down his garden like a madman. + </p> + <p> + “‘Answer that!’ said I, giving him his wife’s letter. ‘Try to reassure the + modesty of experience. It is rather more difficult than conquering the + modesty of ignorance, which curiosity helps to betray.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘She is mine!’ cried the Count, whose face expressed joy as he went on + reading the letter. + </p> + <p> + “He signed to me with his hand to leave him to himself. I understood that + extreme happiness and extreme pain obey the same laws; I went in to + receive Madame de Courteville and Amelie, who were to dine with the Count + that day. However handsome Mademoiselle de Courteville might be, I felt, + on seeing her once more, that love has three aspects, and that the women + who can inspire us with perfect love are very rare. As I involuntarily + compared Amelie with Honorine, I found the erring wife more attractive + than the pure girl. To Honorine’s heart fidelity had not been a duty, but + the inevitable; while Amelie would serenely pronounce the most solemn + promises without knowing their purport or to what they bound her. The + crushed, the dead woman, so to speak, the sinner to be reinstated, seemed + to me sublime; she incited the special generosities of a man’s nature; she + demanded all the treasures of the heart, all the resources of strength; + she filled his life and gave the zest of a conflict to happiness; whereas + Amelie, chaste and confiding, would settle down into the sphere of + peaceful motherhood, where the commonplace must be its poetry, and where + my mind would find no struggle and no victory. + </p> + <p> + “Of the plains of Champagne and the snowy, storm-beaten but sublime Alps, + what young man would choose the chalky, monotonous level? No; such + comparisons are fatal and wrong on the threshold of the Mairie. Alas! only + the experience of life can teach us that marriage excludes passion, that a + family cannot have its foundation on the tempests of love. After having + dreamed of impossible love, with its infinite caprices, after having + tasted the tormenting delights of the ideal, I saw before me modest + reality. Pity me, for what could be expected! At five-and-twenty I did not + trust myself; but I took a manful resolution. + </p> + <p> + “I went back to the Count to announce the arrival of his relations, and I + saw him grown young again in the reflected light of hope. + </p> + <p> + “‘What ails you, Maurice?’ said he, struck by my changed expression. + </p> + <p> + “‘Monsieur le Comte——’ + </p> + <p> + “‘No longer Octave? You, to whom I shall owe my life, my happiness——’ + </p> + <p> + “‘My dear Octave, if you should succeed in bringing the Countess back to + her duty, I have studied her well’—(he looked at me as Othello must + have looked at Iago when Iago first contrived to insinuate a suspicion + into the Moor’s mind)—‘she must never see me again; she must never + know that Maurice was your secretary. Never mention my name to her, or all + will be undone.... You have got me an appointment as Maitre des Requetes—well, + get me instead some diplomatic post abroad, a consulship, and do not think + of my marrying Amelie.—Oh! do not be uneasy,’ I added, seeing him + draw himself up, ‘I will play my part to the end.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Poor boy!’ said he, taking my hand, which he pressed, while he kept back + the tears that were starting to his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “‘You gave me the gloves,’ I said, laughing, ‘but I have not put them on; + that is all.’ + </p> + <p> + “We then agreed as to what I was to do that evening at Honorine’s house, + whither I presently returned. It was now August; the day had been hot and + stormy, but the storm hung overhead, the sky was like copper; the scent of + the flowers was heavy, I felt as if I were in an oven, and caught myself + wishing that the Countess might have set out for the Indies; but she was + sitting on a wooden bench shaped like a sofa, under an arbor, in a loose + dress of white muslin fastened with blue bows, her hair unadorned in + waving bands over her cheeks, her feet on a small wooden stool, and + showing a little way beyond her skirt. She did not rise; she showed me + with her hand to the seat by her side, saying: + </p> + <p> + “‘Now, is not life at a deadlock for me?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Life as you have made it, I replied. ‘But not the life I propose to make + for you; for, if you choose, you may be very happy....’ + </p> + <p> + “‘How?’ said she; her whole person was a question. + </p> + <p> + “‘Your letter is in the Count’s hands.’ + </p> + <p> + “Honorine started like a frightened doe, sprang to a few paces off, walked + down the garden, turned about, remained standing for some minutes, and + finally went in to sit alone in the drawing-room, where I joined her, + after giving her time to get accustomed to the pain of this poniard + thrust. + </p> + <p> + “‘You—a friend? Say rather a traitor! A spy, perhaps, sent by my + husband.’ + </p> + <p> + “Instinct in women is as strong as the perspicacity of great men. + </p> + <p> + “‘You wanted an answer to your letter, did you not? And there was but one + man in the world who could write it. You must read the reply, my dear + Countess; and if after reading it you still find that your life is a + deadlock, the spy will prove himself a friend; I will place you in a + convent whence the Count’s power cannot drag you. But, before going there, + let us consider the other side of the question. There is a law, alike + divine and human, which even hatred affects to obey, and which commands us + not to condemn the accused without hearing his defence. Till now you have + passed condemnation, as children do, with your ears stopped. The devotion + of seven years has its claims. So you must read the answer your husband + will send you. I have forwarded to him, through my uncle, a copy of your + letter, and my uncle asked him what his reply would be if his wife wrote + him a letter in such terms. Thus you are not compromised. He will himself + bring the Count’s answer. In the presence of that saintly man, and in + mine, out of respect for your own dignity, you must read it, or you will + be no better than a wilful, passionate child. You must make this sacrifice + to the world, to the law, and to God.’ + </p> + <p> + “As she saw in this concession no attack on her womanly resolve, she + consented. All the labor or four or five months had been building up to + this moment. But do not the Pyramids end in a point on which a bird may + perch? The Count had set all his hopes on this supreme instant, and he had + reached it. + </p> + <p> + “In all my life I remember nothing more formidable than my uncle’s + entrance into that little Pompadour drawing-room, at ten that evening. The + fine head, with its silver hair thrown into relief by the entirely black + dress, and the divinely calm face, had a magical effect on the Comtesse + Honorine; she had the feeling of cool balm on her wounds, and beamed in + the reflection of that virtue which gave light without knowing it. + </p> + <p> + “‘Monsieur the Cure of the White Friars,’ said old Gobain. + </p> + <p> + “‘Are you come, uncle, with a message of happiness and peace?’ said I. + </p> + <p> + “‘Happiness and peace are always to be found in obedience to the precepts + of the Church,’ replied my uncle, and he handed the Countess the following + letter:— + </p> + <h3> + “‘MY DEAR HONORINE,— + </h3> + <p> + “‘If you had but done me the favor of trusting me, if you had read the + letter I wrote to you five years since, you would have spared yourself + five years of useless labor, and of privations which have grieved me + deeply. In it I proposed an arrangement of which the stipulations will + relieve all your fears, and make our domestic life possible. I have much + to reproach myself with, and in seven years of sorrow I have discovered + all my errors. I misunderstood marriage. I failed to scent danger when it + threatened you. An angel was in the house. The Lord bid me guard it well! + The Lord has punished me for my audacious confidence. + </p> + <p> + “‘You cannot give yourself a single lash without striking me. Have mercy + on me, my dear Honorine. I so fully appreciated your susceptibilities that + I would not bring you back to the old house in the Rue Payenne, where I + can live without you, but which I could not bear to see again with you. I + am decorating, with great pleasure, another house, in the Faubourg + Saint-Honore, to which, in hope, I conduct not a wife whom I owe to her + ignorance of life, and secured to me by law, but a sister who will allow + me to press on her brow such a kiss as a father gives the daughter he + blesses every day. + </p> + <p> + “‘Will you bereave me of the right I have conquered from your despair—that + of watching more closely over your needs, your pleasures, your life even? + Women have one heart always on their side, always abounding in excuses—their + mother’s; you never knew any mother but my mother, who would have brought + you back to me. But how is it that you never guessed that I had for you + the heart of a mother, both of my mother and of your own? Yes, dear, my + affection is neither mean nor grasping; it is one of those which will + never let any annoyance last long enough to pucker the brow of the child + it worships. What can you think of the companion of your childhood, + Honorine, if you believe him capable of accepting kisses given in + trembling, of living between delight and anxiety? Do not fear that you + will be exposed to the laments of a suppliant passion; I would not want + you back until I felt certain of my own strength to leave you in perfect + freedom. + </p> + <p> + “‘Your solitary pride has exaggerated the difficulties. You may, if you + will, look on at the life of a brother, or of a father, without either + suffering or joy; but you will find neither mockery nor indifference, nor + have any doubt as to his intentions. The warmth of the atmosphere in which + you live will be always equable and genial, without tempests, without a + possible squall. If, later, when you feel secure that you are as much at + home as in your own little house, you desire to try some other elements of + happiness, pleasures, or amusements, you can expand their circle at your + will. The tenderness of a mother knows neither contempt nor pity. What is + it? Love without desire. Well, in me admiration shall hide every sentiment + in which you might see an offence. + </p> + <p> + “‘Thus, living side by side, we may both be magnanimous. In you the + kindness of a sister, the affectionate thoughtfulness of a friend, will + satisfy the ambition of him who wishes to be your life’s companion; and + you may measure his tenderness by the care he will take to conceal it. + Neither you nor I will be jealous of the past, for we may each acknowledge + that the other has sense enough to look only straight forward. + </p> + <p> + “‘Thus you will be at home in your new house exactly as you are in the Rue + Saint-Maur; unapproachable, alone, occupied as you please, living by your + own law; but having in addition the legitimate protection, of which you + are now exacting the most chivalrous labors of love, with the + consideration which lends so much lustre to a woman, and the fortune which + will allow of your doing many good works. Honorine, when you long for an + unnecessary absolution, you have only to ask for it; it will not be forced + upon you by the Church or by the Law; it will wait on your pride, on your + own impulsion. My wife might indeed have to fear all the things you dread; + but not my friend and sister, towards whom I am bound to show every form + and refinement of politeness. To see you happy is enough happiness for me; + I have proved this for the seven years past. The guarantee for this, + Honorine, is to be seen in all the flowers made by you, carefully + preserved, and watered by my tears. Like the <i>quipos</i>, the tally + cords of the Peruvians, they are the record of our sorrows. + </p> + <p> + “‘If this secret compact does not suit you, my child, I have begged the + saintly man who takes charge of this letter not to say a word in my + behalf. I will not owe your return to the terrors threatened by the + Church, nor to the bidding of the Law. I will not accept the simple and + quiet happiness that I ask from any one but yourself. If you persist in + condemning me to the lonely life, bereft even of a fraternal smile, which + I have led for nine years, if you remain in your solitude and show no + sign, my will yields to yours. Understand me perfectly: you shall be no + more troubled than you have been until this day. I will get rid of the + crazy fellow who has meddled in your concerns, and has perhaps caused you + some annoyance...’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Monsieur,’ said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in her + bosom, and looking at my uncle, ‘thank you very much. I will avail myself + of Monsieur le Comte’s permission to remain here——’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Ah!’ I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the + Countess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives. + </p> + <p> + “Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were an actor, a bird snarer; + and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my exclamation, + which was one of those cries from the heart which women understand so + well. + </p> + <p> + “‘Ah, Maurice,’ said she, ‘you know how to love.’ + </p> + <p> + “The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have + dissipated the Countess’ uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count + found me useful to the very last. + </p> + <p> + “Honorine then took out the Count’s letter again to finish reading it. My + uncle signed to me, and I rose. + </p> + <p> + “‘Let us leave the Countess,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + “‘You are going already Maurice?’ she said, without looking at me. + </p> + <p> + “She rose, and still reading, followed us to the door. On the threshold + she took my hand, pressed it very affectionately, and said, ‘We shall meet + again...’ + </p> + <p> + “‘No,’ I replied, wringing her hand, so that she cried out. ‘You love your + husband. I leave to-morrow.’ + </p> + <p> + “And I rushed away, leaving my uncle, to whom she said: + </p> + <p> + “‘Why, what is the matter with your nephew?’ + </p> + <p> + “The good Abbe completed my work by pointing to his head and heart, as + much as to say, ‘He is mad, madame; you must forgive him!’ and with all + the more truth, because he really thought it. + </p> + <p> + “Six days after, I set out with an appointment as vice-consul in Spain, in + a large commercial town, where I could quickly qualify to rise in the + career of a consul, to which I now restricted my ambition. After I had + established myself there, I received this letter from the Count:— + </p> + <h3> + “‘MY DEAR MAURICE,— + </h3> + <p> + “‘If I were happy, I should not write to you, but I have entered on a new + life of suffering. I have grown young again in my desires, with all the + impatience of a man of forty, and the prudence of a diplomatist, who has + learned to moderate his passion. When you left I had not yet been admitted + to the <i>pavillon</i> in the Rue Saint-Maur, but a letter had promised me + that I should have permission—the mild and melancholy letter of a + woman who dreaded the agitations of a meeting. After waiting for more than + a month, I made bold to call, and desired Gobain to inquire whether I + could be received. I sat down in a chair in the avenue near the lodge, my + head buried in my hands, and there I remained for almost an hour. + </p> + <p> + “‘"Madame had to dress,” said Gobain, to hide Honorine’s hesitancy under a + pride of appearance which was flattering to me. + </p> + <p> + “‘During a long quarter of an hour we both of us were possessed by an + involuntary nervous trembling as great as that which seizes a speaker on + the platform, and we spoke to each other sacred phrases, like those of + persons taken by surprise who “make believe” a conversation. + </p> + <p> + “‘"You see, Honorine,” said I, my eyes full of tears, “the ice is broken, + and I am so tremulous with happiness that you must forgive the incoherency + of my language. It will be so for a long time yet.” + </p> + <p> + “‘"There is no crime in being in love with your wife,” said she with a + forced smile. + </p> + <p> + “‘"Do me the favor,” said I, “no longer to work as you do. I have heard + from Madame Gobain that for three weeks you have been living on your + savings; you have sixty thousand francs a year of your own, and if you + cannot give me back your heart, at least do not abandon your fortune to + me.” + </p> + <p> + “‘"I have long known your kindness,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “‘"Though you should prefer to remain here,” said I, “and to preserve your + independence; though the most ardent love should find no favor in your + eyes, still, do not toil.” + </p> + <p> + “‘I gave her three certificates for twelve thousand francs a year each; + she took them, opened them languidly, and after reading them through she + gave me only a look as my reward. She fully understood that I was not + offering her money, but freedom. + </p> + <p> + “‘"I am conquered,” said she, holding out her hand, which I kissed. “Come + and see me as often as you like.” + </p> + <p> + “‘So she had done herself a violence in receiving me. Next day I found her + armed with affected high spirits, and it took two months of habit before I + saw her in her true character. But then it was like a delicious May, a + springtime of love that gave me ineffable bliss; she was no longer afraid; + she was studying me. Alas! when I proposed that she should go to England + to return ostensibly to me, to our home, that she should resume her rank + and live in our new residence, she was seized with alarm. + </p> + <p> + “‘"Why not live always as we are?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “‘I submitted without saying a word. + </p> + <p> + “‘"Is she making an experiment?” I asked myself as I left her. On my way + from my own house to the Rue Saint-Maur thoughts of love had swelled in my + heart, and I had said to myself, like a young man, “This evening she will + yield.” + </p> + <p> + “‘All my real or affected force was blown to the winds by a smile, by a + command from those proud, calm eyes, untouched by passion. I remembered + the terrible words you once quoted to me, “Lucretia’s dagger wrote in + letters of blood the watchword of woman’s charter—Liberty!” and they + froze me. I felt imperatively how necessary to me was Honorine’s consent, + and how impossible it was to wring it from her. Could she guess the storms + that distracted me when I left as when I came? + </p> + <p> + “‘At last I painted my situation in a letter to her, giving up the attempt + to speak of it. Honorine made no answer, and she was so sad that I made as + though I had not written. I was deeply grieved by the idea that I could + have distressed her; she read my heart and forgave me. And this was how. + Three days ago she received me, for the first time, in her own + blue-and-white room. It was bright with flowers, dressed, and lighted up. + Honorine was in a dress that made her bewitching. Her hair framed that + face that you know in its light curls; and in it were some sprays of Cape + heath; she wore a white muslin gown, a white sash with long floating ends. + You know what she is in such simplicity, but that day she was a bride, the + Honorine of long past days. My joy was chilled at once, for her face was + terribly grave; there were fires beneath the ice. + </p> + <p> + “‘"Octave,” she said, “I will return as your wife when you will. But + understand clearly that this submission has its dangers. I can be resigned——” + </p> + <p> + “‘I made a movement. + </p> + <p> + “‘"Yes,” she went on, “I understand: resignation offends you, and you want + what I cannot give—Love. Religion and pity led me to renounce my vow + of solitude; you are here!” She paused. + </p> + <p> + “‘"At first,” she went on, “you asked no more. Now you demand your wife. + Well, here I give you Honorine, such as she is, without deceiving you as + to what she will be.—What shall I be? A mother? I hope it. Believe + me, I hope it eagerly. Try to change me; you have my consent; but if I + should die, my dear, do not curse my memory, and do not set down to + obstinacy what I should call the worship of the Ideal, if it were not more + natural to call the indefinable feeling which must kill me the worship of + the Divine! The future will be nothing to me; it will be your concern; + consult your own mind.” + </p> + <p> + “‘And she sat down in the calm attitude you used to admire, and watched me + turning pale with the pain she had inflicted. My blood ran cold. On seeing + the effect of her words she took both my hands, and, holding them in her + own, she said: + </p> + <p> + “‘"Octave, I do love you, but not in the way you wish to be loved. I love + your soul.... Still, understand that I love you enough to die in your + service like an Eastern slave, and without a regret. It will be my + expiation.” + </p> + <p> + “‘She did more; she knelt before me on a cushion, and in a spirit of + sublime charity she said: + </p> + <p> + “‘"And perhaps I shall not die!” + </p> + <p> + “‘For two months now I have been struggling with myself. What shall I do? + My heart is too full; I therefore seek a friend, and send out this cry, + “What shall I do?”’ + </p> + <p> + “I did not answer this letter. Two months later the newspapers announced + the return on board an English vessel of the Comtesse Octave, restored to + her family after adventures by land and sea, invented with sufficient + probability to arouse no contradiction. + </p> + <p> + “When I moved to Genoa I received a formal announcement of the happy event + of the birth of a son to the Count and Countess. I held that letter in my + hand for two hours, sitting on this terrace—on this bench. Two + months after, urged by Octave, by M. de Grandville, and Monsieur de + Serizy, my kind friends, and broken by the death of my uncle, I agreed to + take a wife. + </p> + <p> + “Six months after the revolution of July I received this letter, which + concludes the story of this couple:— + </p> + <p> + “‘MONSIEUR MAURICE,—I am dying though I am a mother—perhaps + because I am a mother. I have played my part as a wife well; I have + deceived my husband. I have had happiness not less genuine than the tears + shed by actresses on the stage. I am dying for society, for the family, + for marriage, as the early Christians died for God! I know not of what I + am dying, and I am honestly trying to find out, for I am not perverse; but + I am bent on explaining my malady to you—you who brought that + heavenly physician your uncle, at whose word I surrendered. He was my + director; I nursed him in his last illness, and he showed me the way to + heaven, bidding me persevere in my duty. + </p> + <p> + “‘And I have done my duty. + </p> + <p> + “‘I do not blame those who forget. I admire them as strong and necessary + natures; but I have the malady of memory! I have not been able twice to + feel that love of the heart which identifies a woman with the man she + loves. To the last moment, as you know, I cried to your heart, in the + confessional, and to my husband, “Have mercy!” But there was no mercy. + Well, and I am dying, dying with stupendous courage. No courtesan was ever + more gay than I. My poor Octave is happy; I let his love feed on the + illusions of my heart. I throw all my powers into this terrible + masquerade; the actress is applauded, feasted, smothered in flowers; but + the invisible rival comes every day to seek its prey—a fragment of + my life. I am rent and I smile. I smile on two children, but it is the + elder, the dead one, that will triumph! I told you so before. The dead + child calls me, and I am going to him. + </p> + <p> + “‘The intimacy of marriage without love is a position in which my soul + feels degraded every hour. I can never weep or give myself up to dreams + but when I am alone. The exigencies of society, the care of my child, and + that of Octave’s happiness never leave me a moment to refresh myself, to + renew my strength, as I could in my solitude. The incessant need for + watchfulness startles my heart with constant alarms. I have not succeeded + in implanting in my soul the sharp-eared vigilance that lies with + facility, and has the eyes of a lynx. It is not the lip of one I love that + drinks my tears and kisses them; my burning eyes are cooled with water, + and not with tender lips. It is my soul that acts a part, and that perhaps + is why I am dying! I lock up my griefs with so much care that nothing is + to be seen of it; it must eat into something, and it has attacked my life. + </p> + <p> + “‘I said to the doctors, who discovered my secret, “Make me die of some + plausible complaint, or I shall drag my husband with me.” + </p> + <p> + “‘So it is quite understood by M. Desplein, Bianchon, and myself that I am + dying of the softening of some bone which science has fully described. + Octave believes that I adore him, do you understand? So I am afraid lest + he should follow me. I now write to beg you in that case to be the little + Count’s guardian. You will find with this a codicil in which I have + expressed my wish; but do not produce it excepting in case of need, for + perhaps I am fatuously vain. My devotion may perhaps leave Octave + inconsolable but willing to live.—Poor Octave! I wish him a better + wife than I am, for he deserves to be well loved. + </p> + <p> + “‘Since my spiritual spy is married, I bid him remember what the florist + of the Rue Saint-Maur hereby bequeaths to him as a lesson: May your wife + soon be a mother! Fling her into the vulgarest materialism of household + life; hinder her from cherishing in her heart the mysterious flower of the + Ideal—of that heavenly perfection in which I believed, that + enchanted blossom with glorious colors, and whose perfume disgusts us with + reality. I am a Saint-Theresa who has not been suffered to live on ecstasy + in the depths of a convent, with the Holy Infant, and a spotless winged + angel to come and go as she wished. + </p> + <p> + “‘You saw me happy among my beloved flowers. I did not tell you all: I saw + love budding under your affected madness, and I concealed from you my + thoughts, my poetry; I did not admit you to my kingdom of beauty. Well, + well; you will love my child for love of me if he should one day lose his + poor father. Keep my secrets as the grave will keep them. Do not mourn for + me; I have been dead this many a day, if Saint Bernard was right in saying + that where there is no more love there is no more life.’” + </p> + <p> + “And the Countess died,” said the Consul, putting away the letters and + locking the pocket-book. + </p> + <p> + “Is the Count still living?” asked the Ambassador, “for since the + revolution of July he has disappeared from the political stage.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you remember, Monsieur de Lora,” said the Consul-General, “having seen + me going to the steamboat with——” + </p> + <p> + “A white-haired man! an old man?” said the painter. + </p> + <p> + “An old man of forty-five, going in search of health and amusement in + Southern Italy. That old man was my poor friend, my patron, passing + through Genoa to take leave of me and place his will in my hands. He + appoints me his son’s guardian. I had no occasion to tell him of + Honorine’s wishes.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he suspect himself of murder?” said Mademoiselle des Touches to the + Baron de l’Hostal. + </p> + <p> + “He suspects the truth,” replied the Consul, “and that is what is killing + him. I remained on board the steam packet that was to take him to Naples + till it was out of the roadstead; a small boat brought me back. We sat for + some little time taking leave of each other—for ever, I fear. God + only knows how much we love the confidant of our love when she who + inspired it is no more. + </p> + <p> + “‘That man,’ said Octave, ‘holds a charm and wears an aureole.’ the Count + went to the prow and looked down on the Mediterranean. It happened to be + fine, and, moved no doubt by the spectacle, he spoke these last words: + ‘Ought we not, in the interests of human nature, to inquire what is the + irresistible power which leads us to sacrifice an exquisite creature to + the most fugitive of all pleasures, and in spite of our reason? In my + conscience I heard cries. Honorine was not alone in her anguish. And yet I + would have it!... I am consumed by remorse. In the Rue Payenne I was dying + of the joys I had not; now I shall die in Italy of the joys I have had.... + Wherein lay the discord between two natures, equally noble, I dare + assert?’” + </p> + <p> + For some minutes profound silence reigned on the terrace. + </p> + <p> + Then the Consul, turning to the two women, asked, “Was she virtuous?” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle des Touches rose, took the Consul’s arm, went a few steps + away, and said to him: + </p> + <p> + “Are not men wrong too when they come to us and make a young girl a wife + while cherishing at the bottom of their heart some angelic image, and + comparing us to those unknown rivals, to perfections often borrowed from a + remembrance, and always finding us wanting?” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, you would be right if marriage were based on passion; and + that was the mistake of those two, who will soon be no more. Marriage with + heart-deep love on both sides would be Paradise.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle des Touches turned from the Consul, and was immediately + joined by Claude Vignon, who said in her ear: + </p> + <p> + “A bit of a coxcomb is M. de l’Hostal.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied she, whispering to Claude these words: “for he has not yet + guessed that Honorine would have loved him.—Oh!” she exclaimed, + seeing the Consul’s wife approaching, “his wife was listening! Unhappy + man!” + </p> + <p> + Eleven was striking by all the clocks, and the guests went home on foot + along the seashore. + </p> + <p> + “Still, that is not life,” said Mademoiselle des Touches. “That woman was + one of the rarest, and perhaps the most extraordinary exceptions in + intellect—a pearl! Life is made up of various incidents, of pain and + pleasure alternately. The Paradise of Dante, that sublime expression of + the ideal, that perpetual blue, is to be found only in the soul; to ask it + of the facts of life is a luxury against which nature protests every hour. + To such souls as those the six feet of a cell, and the kneeling chair are + all they need.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” said Leon de Lora; “but good-for-nothing as I may be, I + cannot help admiring a woman who is capable, as that one was, of living by + the side of a studio, under a painter’s roof, and never coming down, nor + seeing the world, nor dipping her feet in the street mud.” + </p> + <p> + “Such a thing has been known—for a few months,” said Claude Vignon, + with deep irony. + </p> + <p> + “Comtesse Honorine is not unique of her kind,” replied the Ambassador to + Mademoiselle des Touches. “A man, nay, and a politician, a bitter writer, + was the object of such a passion; and the pistol shot which killed him hit + not him alone; the woman who loved lived like a nun ever after.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there are yet some great souls in this age!” said Camille Maupin, + and she stood for some minutes pensively leaning on the balustrade of the + quay. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + ADDENDUM + </h2> + <h3> + The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy. + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Bauvan, Comte Octave de + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + + Bianchon, Horace + Father Goriot + The Atheist’s Mass + Cesar Birotteau + The Commission in Lunacy + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Bachelor’s Establishment + The Secrets of a Princess + The Government Clerks + Pierrette + A Study of Woman + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Seamy Side of History + The Magic Skin + A Second Home + A Prince of Bohemia + Letters of Two Brides + The Muse of the Department + The Imaginary Mistress + The Middle Classes + Cousin Betty + The Country Parson + In addition, M. Bianchon narrated the following: + Another Study of Woman + La Grande Breteche + + Desplein + The Atheist’s Mass + Cousin Pons + Lost Illusions + The Thirteen + The Government Clerks + Pierrette + A Bachelor’s Establishment + The Seamy Side of History + Modeste Mignon + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + + Fontanon, Abbe + A Second Home + The Government Clerks + The Member for Arcis + + Gaudissart, Felix + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Cousin Pons + Cesar Birotteau + Gaudissart the Great + + Gaudron, Abbe + The Government Clerks + A Start in Life + + Granville, Vicomte de (later Comte) + The Gondreville Mystery + A Second Home + Farewell (Adieu) + Cesar Birotteau + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + A Daughter of Eve + Cousin Pons + + Lora, Leon de + The Unconscious Humorists + A Bachelor’s Establishment + A Start in Life + Pierre Grassou + Cousin Betty + Beatrix + + Loraux, Abbe + A Start in Life + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Cesar Birotteau + + Popinot, Jean-Jules + Cesar Birotteau + The Commission in Lunacy + The Seamy Side of History + The Middle Classes + + Serizy, Comte Hugret de + A Start in Life + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Modeste Mignon + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + + Touches, Mademoiselle Felicite des + Beatrix + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Another Study of Woman + A Daughter of Eve + Beatrix + The Muse of the Department + + Vignon, Claude + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Daughter of Eve + Honorine + Beatrix + Cousin Betty + The Unconscious Humorists +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Honorine, by Honore de Balzac + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HONORINE *** + +***** This file should be named 1683-h.htm or 1683-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/8/1683/ + +Produced by John Bickers, and Dagny, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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