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+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: March, 1998 [Etext #1683]
+Posting Date: February 28, 2010
+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
+
+
+
+
+
+HONORINE
+
+
+By Honore De Balzac
+
+
+
+Translated by Clara Bell
+
+
+
+ DEDICATION
+
+ To Monsieur Achille Deveria
+
+ An affectionate remembrance from the Author.
+
+
+
+
+
+HONORINE
+
+
+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.
+
+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 _Rocher
+de Cancale_ 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 _sposo_ 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.
+
+A man is not a diplomate with impunity: the _sposo_ 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
+_malade imaginaire_. If it was real, the women thought it too degrading
+to be believed.
+
+Pedrotti’s daughter gave him her love as a consolation; she lulled these
+unknown griefs in a cradle of tenderness and Italian caresses.
+
+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.
+
+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 _fazzioli_. 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 _Pensieroso_, 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.
+
+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.
+
+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 _Zadig_, 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.
+
+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.
+
+“How long are we going to play at hide-and-seek in this way?” said Leon
+de Lora.
+
+“_Cara vita_, 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.
+
+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.
+
+“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.”
+
+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:--
+
+“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:
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘What, uncle! must I say good-bye to this room, where for four years I
+have been so happy?’
+
+“‘I have no fortune to leave you,’ said he.
+
+“‘Have you not the reputation of your name to leave me, the memory of
+your good works----?’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘Are you the Count’s director?’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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--_Inquire of
+the Porter_ 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.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘Maurice.’
+
+“‘He has taken his doctor’s degree in law,’ my uncle observed.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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 _Confessional of the Black Penitents (The Italian)_, a superior
+creation, as it seems to me, to _The Monk_.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“The man-servant came in carrying a tray with his master’s breakfast on
+it.
+
+“‘I did not ask for breakfast,’ remarked the Count; ‘but leave it, and
+show monsieur to his rooms.’
+
+“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:
+
+“‘He may do wrong, for he has strong feelings, and we are all liable to
+honorable mistakes; but he has no vices.’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘At my uncle’s I had but one room,’ replied I.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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!
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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?
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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?’
+
+“I decided on the second alternative.
+
+“‘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?’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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?’
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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 _Inferno_, horrible joys had their birth.”
+
+The Consul-General paused.
+
+
+
+“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.
+
+“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.’
+
+“It was nine o’clock.
+
+“‘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----’
+
+“‘It depends on the priest.’
+
+“‘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----’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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?’
+
+“‘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?’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘Ah! the Church saw the difficulties,’ exclaimed M. de Grandville.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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.
+
+“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?
+
+“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:
+
+“‘Stay.’
+
+
+
+“This, as nearly as may be, is his story.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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:
+
+“‘“Would you like that we should be married? With me you could do
+whatever you please, while another man would make you unhappy.”
+
+“‘“Mamma,” said she to my mother, who came out to join us, “Octave and I
+have agreed to be married----”
+
+“‘“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.”
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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?’
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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!----’
+
+“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:--
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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 _accoucheur_ 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.
+
+“‘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.”
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.”
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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?
+
+“‘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!’
+
+“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.
+
+“‘I am very ridiculous,’ he added, after a long pause, looking at me, as
+if craving a glance of pity.
+
+“‘No, monsieur, you are very unhappy.’
+
+“‘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?’
+
+“‘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?’
+
+“‘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...”
+
+“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?
+
+“‘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.
+
+“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.
+
+“But I will not talk of myself,” said the Consul after a pause.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“The Countess was in despair.
+
+“‘My good Gobain,’ said she, ‘what sort of man is this florist?’
+
+“‘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----’
+
+“‘Why--what?’
+
+“‘Well, your neighbor is a little cracked!’ said Gobain, tapping her
+head!
+
+“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.
+
+“‘What ails him then?’ asked the Countess.
+
+“‘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----’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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!’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘He is perfectly right,’ said the Countess.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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.
+
+“‘Madame,’ said the housekeeper, ‘this good man is your neighbor.’
+
+“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!’
+
+“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.
+
+“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 _mignonne_, 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.
+
+“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:
+
+“‘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.
+
+“I was very near forgetting my part as a half-crazy lout, clumsy, and by
+no means chivalrous.
+
+“‘I am told, madame, that you are fond of flowers?’
+
+“‘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?’
+
+“‘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?’
+
+“‘Let us stick to the question of the wall,’ said she, with a smile.
+
+“‘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!’
+
+“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.
+
+“‘So you are very fond of flowers?’ said she.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘As you please,’ said I, and with one leap I was over the paling.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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!”’
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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; _ergo_, you forget.’
+
+“‘I!’ she exclaimed, evading my question, ‘I am not a woman. I am a nun,
+and seventy-two years old!’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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.
+
+“‘I am a nun,’ she said, ‘and you talk to me of the world where I shall
+never again set foot.’
+
+“‘Not even in thought?’ said I.
+
+“‘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----’
+
+“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:
+
+“‘Lucretia’s dagger wrote in letters of blood the watchword of woman’s
+charter: _Liberty!_’
+
+“From that moment the Count left me free to act.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘This is not becoming in a woman,’ said I.
+
+“‘Pooh! Am I a woman? I am a boy gifted with a soft soul, that is all; a
+boy whom no woman can torture----’
+
+“‘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----’
+
+“‘For what?’ said she, somewhat disturbed by a speech which, for the
+first time, gave the lie to the part I had assumed.
+
+“‘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!’
+
+“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:
+
+“‘What has happened, madame? Monsieur Maurice is crying like a child.’
+
+“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.
+
+“‘You are not the cause of this attack,’ said she. ‘I am subject to
+these spasms, a sort of cramp of the heart----’
+
+“‘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?’
+
+“‘Marie!’ she called as she rang the bell. Gobain came in.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“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:
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘If I chose----’ said I.
+
+“‘If?’ she repeated.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘I defy you!’ she exclaimed, with ill-disguised uneasiness.
+
+“‘Seriously?’
+
+“‘Certainly,’ said she, tossing her head. ‘If such a crime is possible,
+I ought to know it.’
+
+“‘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?’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘That means that you will fly----’
+
+“‘On wings!’ she cried, ‘to the New World----’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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?’
+
+“‘What do other women do?’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘They are right if the thing required appears to be a sacrifice!’
+replied she pointedly.
+
+“‘Instead of sacrifices, say efforts and----’
+
+“‘It would be an impertinence,’ said she.
+
+“‘Forgive me,’ said I. ‘I forget that woman and the Pope are
+infallible.’
+
+“‘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----’
+
+“She rose and paid no further heed to me.
+
+“‘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?’
+
+“‘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----?’
+
+“‘I have already saved a thousand crowns,’ she said.
+
+“‘Heavens! what privations such a sum must represent!’ I exclaimed.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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:
+
+“‘The battle is to-morrow.’
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘Madame la Comtesse,’ said I with a grave smile.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘In my own house,’ she replied, opening her eyes with a wide stare of
+astonishment.
+
+“‘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 _Cecile_, 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...’
+
+“‘That is enough,’ she said. ‘I want to know but one thing more. From
+whom have you obtained all these details?’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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.
+
+“‘I will go!’ she cried through her tears. ‘He forces me to it; I will
+go where no one certainly will come after me.’
+
+“‘What,’ I said, ‘you would kill yourself?--Madame, you must have some
+very powerful reasons for not wishing to return to Comte Octave.’
+
+“‘Certainly I have!’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘Oh! there is always a convent!’ said she.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘And how? By what means?’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘But,’ said she, ‘will there never be a man who understands me?’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘Ah! you love him,’ I said.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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?’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘And you would accept the equal chances,’ said I.
+
+“‘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!’
+
+“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.
+
+“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:--
+
+“‘MONSIEUR MAURICE,--
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘“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.
+
+“‘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?
+
+“‘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!
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘Come then, and tell me where I may find the solitude, the peace, the
+silence, so kindly to irreparable woes, which you promised me.’
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘She is mine!’ cried the Count, whose face expressed joy as he went on
+reading the letter.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘What ails you, Maurice?’ said he, struck by my changed expression.
+
+“‘Monsieur le Comte----’
+
+“‘No longer Octave? You, to whom I shall owe my life, my happiness----’
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“‘Poor boy!’ said he, taking my hand, which he pressed, while he kept
+back the tears that were starting to his eyes.
+
+“‘You gave me the gloves,’ I said, laughing, ‘but I have not put them
+on; that is all.’
+
+“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:
+
+“‘Now, is not life at a deadlock for me?’
+
+“‘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....’
+
+“‘How?’ said she; her whole person was a question.
+
+“‘Your letter is in the Count’s hands.’
+
+“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.
+
+“‘You--a friend? Say rather a traitor! A spy, perhaps, sent by my
+husband.’
+
+“Instinct in women is as strong as the perspicacity of great men.
+
+“‘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.’
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘Monsieur the Cure of the White Friars,’ said old Gobain.
+
+“‘Are you come, uncle, with a message of happiness and peace?’ said I.
+
+“‘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:--
+
+“‘MY DEAR HONORINE,--
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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 _quipos_,
+the tally cords of the Peruvians, they are the record of our sorrows.
+
+“‘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...’
+
+“‘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----’
+
+“‘Ah!’ I exclaimed.
+
+“This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the
+Countess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘Ah, Maurice,’ said she, ‘you know how to love.’
+
+“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.
+
+“Honorine then took out the Count’s letter again to finish reading it.
+My uncle signed to me, and I rose.
+
+“‘Let us leave the Countess,’ said he.
+
+“‘You are going already Maurice?’ she said, without looking at me.
+
+“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...’
+
+“‘No,’ I replied, wringing her hand, so that she cried out. ‘You love
+your husband. I leave to-morrow.’
+
+“And I rushed away, leaving my uncle, to whom she said:
+
+“‘Why, what is the matter with your nephew?’
+
+“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.
+
+“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:--
+
+“‘MY DEAR MAURICE,--
+
+“‘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 _pavillon_ 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.
+
+“‘“Madame had to dress,” said Gobain, to hide Honorine’s hesitancy under
+a pride of appearance which was flattering to me.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘“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.”
+
+“‘“There is no crime in being in love with your wife,” said she with a
+forced smile.
+
+“‘“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.”
+
+“‘“I have long known your kindness,” said she.
+
+“‘“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.”
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘“I am conquered,” said she, holding out her hand, which I kissed.
+“Come and see me as often as you like.”
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘“Why not live always as we are?” she said.
+
+“‘I submitted without saying a word.
+
+“‘“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.”
+
+“‘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?
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘“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----”
+
+“‘I made a movement.
+
+“‘“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.
+
+“‘“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.”
+
+“‘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:
+
+“‘“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.”
+
+“‘She did more; she knelt before me on a cushion, and in a spirit of
+sublime charity she said:
+
+“‘“And perhaps I shall not die!”
+
+“‘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?”’
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“Six months after the revolution of July I received this letter, which
+concludes the story of this couple:--
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘And I have done my duty.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘I said to the doctors, who discovered my secret, “Make me die of some
+plausible complaint, or I shall drag my husband with me.”
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.
+
+“‘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.’”
+
+“And the Countess died,” said the Consul, putting away the letters and
+locking the pocket-book.
+
+“Is the Count still living?” asked the Ambassador, “for since the
+revolution of July he has disappeared from the political stage.”
+
+“Do you remember, Monsieur de Lora,” said the Consul-General, “having
+seen me going to the steamboat with----”
+
+“A white-haired man! an old man?” said the painter.
+
+“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.”
+
+“Does he suspect himself of murder?” said Mademoiselle des Touches to
+the Baron de l’Hostal.
+
+“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.
+
+“‘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?’”
+
+For some minutes profound silence reigned on the terrace.
+
+Then the Consul, turning to the two women, asked, “Was she virtuous?”
+
+Mademoiselle des Touches rose, took the Consul’s arm, went a few steps
+away, and said to him:
+
+“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?”
+
+“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.”
+
+Mademoiselle des Touches turned from the Consul, and was immediately
+joined by Claude Vignon, who said in her ear:
+
+“A bit of a coxcomb is M. de l’Hostal.”
+
+“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!”
+
+Eleven was striking by all the clocks, and the guests went home on foot
+along the seashore.
+
+“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.”
+
+“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.”
+
+“Such a thing has been known--for a few months,” said Claude Vignon,
+with deep irony.
+
+“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.”
+
+“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.
+
+
+
+
+ADDENDUM
+
+The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy.
+
+ 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
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Honorine, by Honore de Balzac
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HONORINE ***
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+ "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
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+<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; }
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+ .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
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+ .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%;}
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+</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 &ldquo;Attic salt&rdquo; 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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;not
+ the most fashionable pleasantry, for it loses its aroma between Paris and
+ the frontier&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;silent because
+ sleep has fallen on them&mdash;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&rsquo;s wife at a splendid dinner, and you will have the picture
+ presented by the terrace of the villa about the middle of May&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;clock, when a collation was served, though the conversation had been gay
+ and grave by turns, and constantly enlivened by Leon de Lora&rsquo;s sallies&mdash;for
+ he is considered the most roguish wit of Paris to-day&mdash;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&rsquo;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&mdash;so secret that the merchants of Genoa chose to regard the
+ young Consul&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s fortunes. In accordance with a promise made by
+ the Ambassador to the Consul-General&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s wife, with a boy of six, as handsome as a mother&rsquo;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&rsquo;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, &ldquo;What is wrong?&mdash;Nothing is
+ wrong,&rdquo; following the misleading symptoms of the Consul&rsquo;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&mdash;woman&rsquo;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&mdash;the Ambassadress, the
+ Consul&rsquo;s wife, and Mademoiselle des Touches, women, of course, of
+ blameless reputations&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;How long are we going to play at hide-and-seek in this way?&rdquo; said Leon de
+ Lora.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;<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,&rdquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+ </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&rsquo;s tale:&mdash;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;s taking me to Himself. I shall have
+ finished mass at nine o&rsquo;clock; you have three-quarters of an hour before
+ you. Be ready.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;What, uncle! must I say good-bye to this room, where for four years I
+ have been so happy?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I have no fortune to leave you,&rsquo; said he.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Have you not the reputation of your name to leave me, the memory of your
+ good works&mdash;&mdash;?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;We need say nothing of that inheritance,&rsquo; he replied, smiling. &lsquo;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&rsquo;&mdash;Allow me,&rdquo; said the Consul, interrupting himself, &ldquo;to speak
+ of my protector by his Christian name only, and to call him Comte Octave.&mdash;&lsquo;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&mdash;as I make no doubt you can&mdash;will be worth, at least,
+ as much as the fortune I might have accumulated for you, if my
+ brother-in-law&rsquo;s ruin and my sister&rsquo;s death had not fallen on me like a
+ thunder-bolt from a clear sky.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Are you the Count&rsquo;s director?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s desires within reasonable limits.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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, &lsquo;You will see Canalis, or
+ Camille Maupin,&rsquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;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,&mdash;as a millionaire,&mdash;as beloved by a princess,&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;The persistent study of other people&rsquo;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&mdash;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, &lsquo;Here, Maurice, you too are poor! Here are twenty
+ francs; go and amuse yourself, you are not a priest!&rsquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;In Comte Octave you will find not a master, but a friend,&rsquo; said my uncle
+ on the way to the Rue Payenne. &lsquo;But he is distrustful, or to be more
+ exact, he is cautious. The statesman&rsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;s lodge&mdash;<i>Inquire of the
+ Porter</i> was still written over the door&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;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&mdash;goldsmith&rsquo;s work in iron&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Monsieur le Cure of the White Friars, and his nephew, Monsieur de
+ l&rsquo;Hostal,&rsquo; said Labranche, to whose care the other theatrical servant had
+ consigned us in the first ante-chamber.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;s hands,
+ which he pressed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Though I am in the parish of Saint-Paul,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;I could scarcely
+ have failed to hear of the Cure of the White Friars, and I am happy to
+ make his acquaintance.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Your Excellency is most kind,&rsquo; replied my uncle. &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;As to that, I can only reply, Monsieur l&rsquo;Abbe, when we shall have tried
+ each other,&rsquo; said Comte Octave. &lsquo;Your name?&rsquo; he added to me.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Maurice.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;He has taken his doctor&rsquo;s degree in law,&rsquo; my uncle observed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Very good, very good!&rsquo; said the Count, looking at me from head to foot.
+ &lsquo;Monsieur l&rsquo;Abbe, I hope that for your nephew&rsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&mdash;which I admired
+ at a later time&mdash;and endowed, like the Prince&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;s.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;As I tell you this story,&rdquo; said the Consul-General, interrupting himself,
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;Instead of feeling&mdash;as I really was, socially speaking&mdash;an
+ insect in the presence of an eagle,&rdquo; the narrator went on after a pause,
+ &ldquo;I felt I know not what indefinable impression from the Count&rsquo;s
+ appearance, which, however, I can now account for. Artists of genius&rdquo; (and
+ he bowed gracefully to the Ambassador, the distinguished lady, and the two
+ Frenchmen), &ldquo;real statesmen, poets, a general who has commanded armies&mdash;in
+ short, all really great minds are simple, and their simplicity places you
+ on a level with themselves.&mdash;You who are all of superior minds,&rdquo; he
+ said, addressing his guests, &ldquo;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&mdash;allow
+ me the word&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;The man-servant came in carrying a tray with his master&rsquo;s breakfast on
+ it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I did not ask for breakfast,&rsquo; remarked the Count; &lsquo;but leave it, and
+ show monsieur to his rooms.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;
+ quarters, over a corridor of communication between the kitchens and the
+ grand staircase. When I returned to the Count&rsquo;s study, I overheard, before
+ opening the door, my uncle pronouncing this judgment on me:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;He may do wrong, for he has strong feelings, and we are all liable to
+ honorable mistakes; but he has no vices.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said the Count, with a kindly look, &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;At my uncle&rsquo;s I had but one room,&rsquo; replied I.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Well, you can settle yourself this evening,&rsquo; said the Count, &lsquo;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,&rsquo;
+ and he looked at my uncle.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;A splendid library opened from the Count&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;This is your cell,&rsquo; said he. &lsquo;You will sit there when you have to work
+ with me, for you will not be tethered by a chain;&rsquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;s
+ methods. A secretary necessarily watches the man who makes use of him.
+ That man&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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&mdash;an
+ extraordinary man to those who knew him well&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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, &lsquo;Go on with this for me,&rsquo; and trust me with the work in hand.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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, &lsquo;I suffer, and am silent.&rsquo; The escort of
+ respect and admiration which attended him; the friendship of workers as
+ valiant as himself&mdash;Grandville and Serizy, both presiding judges&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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, &lsquo;Speak first!&rsquo; Now and then Comte Octave&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;When I became attached like a son to this man&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;three of which did not come under the
+ law against plurality&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I am no longer astonished,&rsquo; said he, on hearing of these results, &lsquo;at
+ the fortunes made by servants. In seven years I have had two cooks, who
+ have become rich restaurant-keepers.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Maurice,&rsquo; he exclaimed, &lsquo;you are no longer my apprentice; I know not yet
+ what you will be to me&mdash;but if no change occurs in my life, perhaps
+ you will take the place of a son.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&mdash;Where?&mdash;that was the mystery. By
+ the welcome I met with I could judge of the Count&rsquo;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, &lsquo;Had I
+ better ask my uncle for the money, or put my confidence in the Count?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;I decided on the second alternative.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Yesterday,&rsquo; said I, when he was at breakfast, &lsquo;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&rsquo;s salary?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said he, with the sweetest smile; &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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, &lsquo;What ails you? From what are you suffering?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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, &lsquo;What have you come
+ to ask?&rsquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The Consul-General paused.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;On a certain Monday,&rdquo; he resumed, &ldquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;and
+ to which I owed my appointment, in the course of that year, to be Master
+ of Appeals.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Though the Comtes de Grandville and de Serizy, whose habits were much the
+ same as my patron&rsquo;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, &lsquo;MM. the Cures of Saint-Paul and of the White
+ Friars have been waiting in the drawing-room for two hours.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;It was nine o&rsquo;clock.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Well, gentlemen, you find yourselves compelled to dine with priests,&rsquo;
+ said Comte Octave to his colleagues. &lsquo;I do not know whether Grandville can
+ overcome his horror of a priest&rsquo;s gown&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;It depends on the priest.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;One of them is my uncle, and the other is the Abbe Gaudron,&rsquo; said I. &lsquo;Do
+ not be alarmed; the Abbe Fontanon is no longer second priest at Saint-Paul&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Well, let us dine,&rsquo; replied the President de Grandville. &lsquo;A bigot
+ frightens me, but there is no one so cheerful as a truly pious man.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;s music.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;In the eyes of the Church,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;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&rsquo;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?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;To a convent!&rsquo; said M. de Serizy. &lsquo;They must first have created
+ convents, and in those days monasteries were being turned into barracks.
+ Besides, think of what you say, M. l&rsquo;Abbe&mdash;give to God what society
+ would have none of?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Oh!&rsquo; said the Comte de Grandville, &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;M. l&rsquo;Abbe preaches for his own saint, for it was Jesus Christ who
+ invented adultery,&rsquo; said Comte Octave. &lsquo;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&mdash;a
+ daughter of Christ&mdash;invented indissoluble marriage, and made it a
+ sacrament.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Ah! the Church saw the difficulties,&rsquo; exclaimed M. de Grandville.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;This institution has given rise to a new world,&rsquo; the Count went on with
+ a smile. &lsquo;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.&mdash;So let us discuss Europe only.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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 &ldquo;Inasmuch.&rdquo; 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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;We three among us know the question very thoroughly,&rsquo; said the Comte de
+ Grandville with a laugh. &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Octave&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Forgive me, my dear fellow. I did not see Maurice,&rsquo; the President went
+ on. &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;But then,&rsquo; he exclaimed, lifting his hand with a gesture of disgust,
+ &lsquo;how are we to perfect legislation in a country which insists on bringing
+ together seven or eight hundred legislators!&mdash;After all, if I am
+ sacrificed,&rsquo; he added, &lsquo;I have a child to succeed me.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Setting aside all the religious question,&rsquo; my uncle said, &lsquo;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?&rsquo; asked my uncle.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;And I&mdash;have I any children?&rsquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we
+ were alone. &lsquo;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.&mdash;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!&mdash;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Stay.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;This, as nearly as may be, is his story.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&mdash;necessary perhaps&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"Would you like that we should be married? With me you could do whatever
+ you please, while another man would make you unhappy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"Mamma,&rdquo; said she to my mother, who came out to join us, &ldquo;Octave and I
+ have agreed to be married&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"What! at seventeen?&rdquo; said my mother. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;s girlish dreams?
+ Who can tell, while happy days last, what precepts he has neglected?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;It was eighteen months after my father&rsquo;s death&mdash;my mother followed
+ him to the tomb in a few months&mdash;when the fearful night came which
+ surprised me by Honorine&rsquo;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?&mdash;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&rsquo;s misfortunes have since taught me too much
+ about all these things.&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Oh!&rsquo; said he, seeing the amazement in my eyes, &lsquo;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,
+ &ldquo;Shall we marry?&rdquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&mdash;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&rsquo;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.&mdash;And I, so wise a
+ judge as they say&mdash;I, who have a kind heart, but whose mind was
+ absorbed&mdash;I understood too late these unwritten laws of the woman&rsquo;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.&mdash;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&rsquo;s scarf of office. And I had to keep silence.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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. &ldquo;I remain married only for my
+ wife&rsquo;s sake,&rdquo; he said to me one day on coming out of court.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;But I&mdash;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!&mdash;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!&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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:&mdash;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;s pain. The measure of our sufferings is in ourselves.&mdash;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?&mdash;Could
+ you see me when I leap with hope&mdash;when I writhe under the myriad
+ darts of despair&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;As to the drama&mdash;it is this. You imagine that I am occupied with
+ the Council of State, the Chamber, the Courts, Politics.&mdash;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,&mdash;that is my life, my true life.&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&mdash;to
+ fulfil my part, in short, as a guardian angel?&mdash;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,&rsquo; said he, holding out his own with a
+ gesture of angelic dignity, &lsquo;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&mdash;&ldquo;By the
+ Sisters of Charity in the neighborhood&mdash;by the Maternity Society&mdash;by
+ the parish priest, who took an interest in her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Oh! I know what you are about to say,&rsquo; cried the Count, seeing a
+ question in my eyes and on my lips. &lsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;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.&mdash;&ldquo;Madame Gobain,&rdquo; she had exclaimed, &ldquo;I
+ leave this to-morrow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;the solemn lawyer
+ whom you know&mdash;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&mdash;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;s roof?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&mdash;as
+ an emperor!&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;As I heard the last words, I believed that Count Octave&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I am very ridiculous,&rsquo; he added, after a long pause, looking at me, as
+ if craving a glance of pity.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;No, monsieur, you are very unhappy.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Ah yes!&rsquo; said he, taking up the thread of his confidences. &lsquo;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&rsquo;s mind and heart, to which I paid little heed in the time of my
+ happiness&mdash;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!&mdash;Ah! The
+ law of which we were speaking,&rsquo; he went on with bitter irony, &lsquo;the law is
+ a squad of gendarmes&mdash;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&rsquo; 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&rsquo;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?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I see what you are coming to, Monsieur le Comte,&rsquo; said I, interrupting
+ him; &lsquo;I guess your purpose. Your first secretary tried to open your deed
+ box. I know the heart of your second&mdash;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?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;You are a foolish boy,&rsquo; replied the Count. &lsquo;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&rsquo;Hostal, a lawyer high in office...&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Baron, and Master of Appeals, till you get something better, and this
+ old house settled on her,&mdash;would not you have enough good reasons for
+ not falling in love with the Countess?&rsquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;But I will not talk of myself,&rdquo; said the Consul after a pause.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Three weeks later I went to live in the gardener&rsquo;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&rsquo;s happiness? To settle that matter, I may confess that I counted
+ very much on my uncle&rsquo;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&rsquo;s report to the Count of his wife&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;The Countess was in despair.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;My good Gobain,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;what sort of man is this florist?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;On my word,&rsquo; said the housekeeper, &lsquo;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&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Why&mdash;what?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Well, your neighbor is a little cracked!&rsquo; said Gobain, tapping her head!
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;What ails him then?&rsquo; asked the Countess.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;He has studied too hard,&rsquo; replied Gobain; &lsquo;he has turned misanthropic.
+ And he has his reasons for disliking women&mdash;well, if you want to know
+ all that is said about him&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said Honorine, &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;s face curiously peeping out. Madame Gobain
+ called me. I hastily glanced at the Countess&rsquo; house, and by a rude shrug
+ expressed, &lsquo;What do I care for your mistress!&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Madame,&rsquo; said Gobain, called upon to give an account of her errand, &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;He is perfectly right,&rsquo; said the Countess.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Yes, but he ended by saying, &ldquo;I will go,&rdquo; when I told him that he would
+ greatly distress a lady living in retirement, who found her greatest
+ solace in growing flowers.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Next day a signal from Gobain informed me that I was expected. After the
+ Countess&rsquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Madame,&rsquo; said the housekeeper, &lsquo;this good man is your neighbor.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;The Countess was not alarmed. I saw at last the woman whom her own
+ conduct and her husband&rsquo;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&rsquo;s
+ passion and the truthfulness of his description, &lsquo;A heavenly flower!&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white&mdash;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Think, and I will divine your thought; speak, and I will obey. If my
+ life, sacrificed in torments, can procure you one day&rsquo;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.&rsquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;I was very near forgetting my part as a half-crazy lout, clumsy, and by
+ no means chivalrous.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I am told, madame, that you are fond of flowers?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I am an artificial flower-maker,&rsquo; said she. &lsquo;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?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;But how,&rsquo; said I, as grave as a judge, &lsquo;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?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Let us stick to the question of the wall,&rsquo; said she, with a smile.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Why, we have begun at the foundations,&rsquo; said I. &lsquo;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?&mdash;Oh! what a charming clump of narcissus! They
+ are as fresh as this spring morning!&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;So you are very fond of flowers?&rsquo; said she.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;They are,&rsquo; I replied, &lsquo;the only beings that never disappoint our cares
+ and affection.&rsquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;If you insist on my leaving the paling,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;As you please,&rsquo; said I, and with one leap I was over the paling.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Now, of what use would a door be?&rsquo; said I, from my own domain, turning
+ round to the Countess, and mocking her with a madman&rsquo;s gesture and
+ grimace.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo; 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&mdash;a manufacture.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;This art,&rsquo; she would say, &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&mdash;with the exception of
+ his club foot&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;s friendship is far superior to her love.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&mdash;hers and the Count&rsquo;s:&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;The Orientals are right,&rsquo; I said to her one evening, &lsquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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: &ldquo;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!&rdquo;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;God has, no doubt, reserved such perfect bliss for Paradise,&rsquo; said she.
+ &lsquo;But,&rsquo; she added, &lsquo;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?&rsquo; she asked, looking at me as the
+ Virgin in Ingres&rsquo; picture looks at Louis XIII. offering her his kingdom.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;You are an actress in good faith,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I!&rsquo; she exclaimed, evading my question, &lsquo;I am not a woman. I am a nun,
+ and seventy-two years old!&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I am a nun,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;and you talk to me of the world where I shall
+ never again set foot.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Not even in thought?&rsquo; said I.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Is the world so much to be desired?&rsquo; she replied. &lsquo;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&mdash;everyday life. Is this a warning from
+ heaven? I ask myself&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Lucretia&rsquo;s dagger wrote in letters of blood the watchword of woman&rsquo;s
+ charter: <i>Liberty!</i>&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;From that moment the Count left me free to act.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I have been paid a hundred francs for the flowers and caps I made this
+ week!&rsquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;It was ten o&rsquo;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&rsquo;s
+ accomplices found for him by a judge, M. Popinot.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I earn my living by amusing myself,&rsquo; said she; &lsquo;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&rsquo;s gold pieces as
+ much as Lord Byron, your double, liked Mr. Murray&rsquo;s.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;This is not becoming in a woman,&rsquo; said I.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Pooh! Am I a woman? I am a boy gifted with a soft soul, that is all; a
+ boy whom no woman can torture&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Your life is the negation of your whole being,&rsquo; I replied. &lsquo;What? You,
+ on whom God has lavished His choicest treasures of love and beauty, do you
+ never wish&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;For what?&rsquo; said she, somewhat disturbed by a speech which, for the first
+ time, gave the lie to the part I had assumed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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!&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;What has happened, madame? Monsieur Maurice is crying like a child.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;You are not the cause of this attack,&rsquo; said she. &lsquo;I am subject to these
+ spasms, a sort of cramp of the heart&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;And will you not tell me of your troubles?&rsquo; said I, in a voice which
+ cannot be affected, as I wiped away my tears. &lsquo;Have you not just now told
+ me that you have been a mother, and have been so unhappy as to lose your
+ child?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Marie!&rsquo; she called as she rang the bell. Gobain came in.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Bring lights and some tea,&rsquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;s, nor bitter mockery like Don Juan&rsquo;s, nor a reverie like Childe
+ Harold&rsquo;s? Nothing shall be known of me. My heart is a poem that I lay
+ before God.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;If I chose&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo; said I.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;If?&rsquo; she repeated.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I have no interest in anything,&rsquo; I replied, &lsquo;so I cannot be inquisitive;
+ but, if I chose, I could know all your secrets by to-morrow.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I defy you!&rsquo; she exclaimed, with ill-disguised uneasiness.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Seriously?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Certainly,&rsquo; said she, tossing her head. &lsquo;If such a crime is possible, I
+ ought to know it.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;In the first place, madame,&rsquo; I went on, pointing to her hands, &lsquo;those
+ pretty fingers, which are enough to show that you are not a mere girl&mdash;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: &ldquo;Here, this
+ is for you?&rdquo; Marie is the real Madame Gobain; so you conceal your name
+ behind that of your housekeeper.&mdash;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?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; replied she with threatening audacity, &lsquo;I insist on it. Be
+ curious, and tell me all that you can find out about me; but,&rsquo; and she
+ held up her finger, &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;That means that you will fly&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;On wings!&rsquo; she cried, &lsquo;to the New World&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Where you will be at the mercy of the brutal passions you will inspire,&rsquo;
+ said I, interrupting her. &lsquo;Is it not the very essence of genius and beauty
+ to shine, to attract men&rsquo;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&mdash;M. Gobain,
+ that is all. If you have to fight a duel, you may need a second.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Never mind; find out who I am. I have already said that I insist. Now, I
+ beg that you will,&rsquo; she went on, with the grace which you ladies have at
+ command,&rdquo; said the Consul, looking at the ladies.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Well, then, to-morrow, at the same hour, I will tell you what I may have
+ discovered,&rsquo; replied I. &lsquo;But do not therefore hate me! Will you behave
+ like other women?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;What do other women do?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;They are right if the thing required appears to be a sacrifice!&rsquo; replied
+ she pointedly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Instead of sacrifices, say efforts and&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;It would be an impertinence,&rsquo; said she.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Forgive me,&rsquo; said I. &lsquo;I forget that woman and the Pope are infallible.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Good heavens!&rsquo; said she after a long pause, &lsquo;only two words would be
+ enough to destroy the peace so dearly bought, and which I enjoy like a
+ fraud&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;She rose and paid no further heed to me.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Where can I go?&rsquo; she said. &lsquo;What is to become of me?&mdash;Must I leave
+ this quiet retreat, that I had arranged with such care to end my days in?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;To end your days!&rsquo; exclaimed I with visible alarm. &lsquo;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&mdash;&mdash;?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I have already saved a thousand crowns,&rsquo; she said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Heavens! what privations such a sum must represent!&rsquo; I exclaimed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Leave me,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;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&mdash;Good-night,&rsquo;
+ she added shortly, dismissing me with an imperious gesture.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;The battle is to-morrow, then,&rsquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;The battle is to-morrow.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Octave&rsquo;s anxiety was equal to Honorine&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;I was punctual. At ten next evening I was, for the first time, shown into
+ a charming bedroom furnished with white and blue&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Madame la Comtesse,&rsquo; said I with a grave smile.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;You are,&rsquo; I went on, &lsquo;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.&mdash;Where do you suppose yourself to be living?&rsquo; I
+ asked her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;In my own house,&rsquo; she replied, opening her eyes with a wide stare of
+ astonishment.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;In Count Octave&rsquo;s,&rsquo; I replied. &lsquo;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&rsquo;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...&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;That is enough,&rsquo; she said. &lsquo;I want to know but one thing more. From whom
+ have you obtained all these details?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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.&mdash;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&rsquo;s tenderness was ever
+ more ingenious than your husband&rsquo;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&mdash;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I will go!&rsquo; she cried through her tears. &lsquo;He forces me to it; I will go
+ where no one certainly will come after me.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;What,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;you would kill yourself?&mdash;Madame, you must have
+ some very powerful reasons for not wishing to return to Comte Octave.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Certainly I have!&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;s tyranny, I will
+ find you the means; he shall never find you.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Oh! there is always a convent!&rsquo; said she.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&mdash;; but&mdash;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,&rsquo; I added, noticing a glance of
+ horrible suspicion, full of exaggerated dignity. &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;And how? By what means?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;But,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;will there never be a man who understands me?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&mdash;the
+ Fenelon who said to the Duc de Bourgogne: &lsquo;Eat a calf on a Friday by all
+ means, monseigneur. But be a Christian.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;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.&mdash;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?&mdash;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&mdash;there is nothing left!&mdash;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&mdash;well, I could imagine
+ surrendering to another man&rsquo;s love, but to Octave&rsquo;s?&mdash;No, never.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Ah! you love him,&rsquo; I said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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,&rsquo; she went on, &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Where will you go?&rsquo; I asked. &lsquo;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?&mdash;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;What a night my poor child will go through!&rsquo; he exclaimed, when I had
+ finished my account of the scene that had just taken place. &lsquo;Supposing I
+ were to go to her!&rsquo; he added; &lsquo;supposing she were to see me suddenly?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;At this moment she is capable of throwing herself out of the window,&rsquo; I
+ replied. &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;You are young,&rsquo; he answered; &lsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;And you would accept the equal chances,&rsquo; said I.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Well, come,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;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!&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;This is her letter, of which I kept a copy&mdash;for you, mademoiselle,&rdquo;
+ said the Consul, addressing Camille, &ldquo;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:&mdash;
+ </p>
+ <h3>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;MONSIEUR MAURICE,&mdash;
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;s forgiveness; but it forgets that the forgiveness
+ must be accepted. Legally, religiously, and from the world&rsquo;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&mdash;for I know
+ that I am an egoist&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"What are you rebelling against?&rdquo; I am asked from the height of heaven,
+ from the pulpit, from the judge&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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 &ldquo;mulish
+ obstinacy.&rdquo; 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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Here, when I suffer, I bless my sufferings; I say to God, &ldquo;I thank
+ Thee!&rdquo; But in my husband&rsquo;s house I should be full of terror, tasting joys
+ to which I have no right.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&mdash;Ah yes! I have a child&rsquo;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;s roof.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;s soul after all) there is no guarantee for the new life I should
+ lead with him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Come then, and tell me where I may find the solitude, the peace, the
+ silence, so kindly to irreparable woes, which you promised me.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Answer that!&rsquo; said I, giving him his wife&rsquo;s letter. &lsquo;Try to reassure the
+ modesty of experience. It is rather more difficult than conquering the
+ modesty of ignorance, which curiosity helps to betray.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;She is mine!&rsquo; cried the Count, whose face expressed joy as he went on
+ reading the letter.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;What ails you, Maurice?&rsquo; said he, struck by my changed expression.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Monsieur le Comte&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;No longer Octave? You, to whom I shall owe my life, my happiness&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;My dear Octave, if you should succeed in bringing the Countess back to
+ her duty, I have studied her well&rsquo;&mdash;(he looked at me as Othello must
+ have looked at Iago when Iago first contrived to insinuate a suspicion
+ into the Moor&rsquo;s mind)&mdash;&lsquo;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&mdash;well,
+ get me instead some diplomatic post abroad, a consulship, and do not think
+ of my marrying Amelie.&mdash;Oh! do not be uneasy,&rsquo; I added, seeing him
+ draw himself up, &lsquo;I will play my part to the end.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Poor boy!&rsquo; said he, taking my hand, which he pressed, while he kept back
+ the tears that were starting to his eyes.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;You gave me the gloves,&rsquo; I said, laughing, &lsquo;but I have not put them on;
+ that is all.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;We then agreed as to what I was to do that evening at Honorine&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Now, is not life at a deadlock for me?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Life as you have made it, I replied. &lsquo;But not the life I propose to make
+ for you; for, if you choose, you may be very happy....&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;How?&rsquo; said she; her whole person was a question.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Your letter is in the Count&rsquo;s hands.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;You&mdash;a friend? Say rather a traitor! A spy, perhaps, sent by my
+ husband.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Instinct in women is as strong as the perspicacity of great men.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;In all my life I remember nothing more formidable than my uncle&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Monsieur the Cure of the White Friars,&rsquo; said old Gobain.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Are you come, uncle, with a message of happiness and peace?&rsquo; said I.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Happiness and peace are always to be found in obedience to the precepts
+ of the Church,&rsquo; replied my uncle, and he handed the Countess the following
+ letter:&mdash;
+ </p>
+ <h3>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;MY DEAR HONORINE,&mdash;
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Will you bereave me of the right I have conquered from your despair&mdash;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&mdash;their
+ mother&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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...&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Monsieur,&rsquo; said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in her
+ bosom, and looking at my uncle, &lsquo;thank you very much. I will avail myself
+ of Monsieur le Comte&rsquo;s permission to remain here&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Ah!&rsquo; I exclaimed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Ah, Maurice,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;you know how to love.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have
+ dissipated the Countess&rsquo; uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count
+ found me useful to the very last.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Honorine then took out the Count&rsquo;s letter again to finish reading it. My
+ uncle signed to me, and I rose.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Let us leave the Countess,&rsquo; said he.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;You are going already Maurice?&rsquo; she said, without looking at me.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;She rose, and still reading, followed us to the door. On the threshold
+ she took my hand, pressed it very affectionately, and said, &lsquo;We shall meet
+ again...&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;No,&rsquo; I replied, wringing her hand, so that she cried out. &lsquo;You love your
+ husband. I leave to-morrow.&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;And I rushed away, leaving my uncle, to whom she said:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Why, what is the matter with your nephew?&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;The good Abbe completed my work by pointing to his head and heart, as
+ much as to say, &lsquo;He is mad, madame; you must forgive him!&rsquo; and with all
+ the more truth, because he really thought it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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:&mdash;
+ </p>
+ <h3>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;MY DEAR MAURICE,&mdash;
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"Madame had to dress,&rdquo; said Gobain, to hide Honorine&rsquo;s hesitancy under a
+ pride of appearance which was flattering to me.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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 &ldquo;make believe&rdquo; a conversation.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"You see, Honorine,&rdquo; said I, my eyes full of tears, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"There is no crime in being in love with your wife,&rdquo; said she with a
+ forced smile.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"Do me the favor,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"I have long known your kindness,&rdquo; said she.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"Though you should prefer to remain here,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;and to preserve your
+ independence; though the most ardent love should find no favor in your
+ eyes, still, do not toil.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"I am conquered,&rdquo; said she, holding out her hand, which I kissed. &ldquo;Come
+ and see me as often as you like.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"Why not live always as we are?&rdquo; she said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I submitted without saying a word.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"Is she making an experiment?&rdquo; 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, &ldquo;This evening she will
+ yield.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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, &ldquo;Lucretia&rsquo;s dagger wrote in
+ letters of blood the watchword of woman&rsquo;s charter&mdash;Liberty!&rdquo; and they
+ froze me. I felt imperatively how necessary to me was Honorine&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"Octave,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I will return as your wife when you will. But
+ understand clearly that this submission has its dangers. I can be resigned&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I made a movement.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"Yes,&rdquo; she went on, &ldquo;I understand: resignation offends you, and you want
+ what I cannot give&mdash;Love. Religion and pity led me to renounce my vow
+ of solitude; you are here!&rdquo; She paused.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"At first,&rdquo; she went on, &ldquo;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.&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"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.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;She did more; she knelt before me on a cushion, and in a spirit of
+ sublime charity she said:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;"And perhaps I shall not die!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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,
+ &ldquo;What shall I do?&rdquo;&rsquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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>
+ &ldquo;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&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;Six months after the revolution of July I received this letter, which
+ concludes the story of this couple:&mdash;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;MONSIEUR MAURICE,&mdash;I am dying though I am a mother&mdash;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&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;And I have done my duty.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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, &ldquo;Have mercy!&rdquo; 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&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I said to the doctors, who discovered my secret, &ldquo;Make me die of some
+ plausible complaint, or I shall drag my husband with me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&rsquo;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.&mdash;Poor Octave! I wish him a better
+ wife than I am, for he deserves to be well loved.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;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.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;And the Countess died,&rdquo; said the Consul, putting away the letters and
+ locking the pocket-book.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Is the Count still living?&rdquo; asked the Ambassador, &ldquo;for since the
+ revolution of July he has disappeared from the political stage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Do you remember, Monsieur de Lora,&rdquo; said the Consul-General, &ldquo;having seen
+ me going to the steamboat with&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;A white-haired man! an old man?&rdquo; said the painter.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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&rsquo;s guardian. I had no occasion to tell him of
+ Honorine&rsquo;s wishes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Does he suspect himself of murder?&rdquo; said Mademoiselle des Touches to the
+ Baron de l&rsquo;Hostal.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;He suspects the truth,&rdquo; replied the Consul, &ldquo;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&mdash;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>
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;That man,&rsquo; said Octave, &lsquo;holds a charm and wears an aureole.&rsquo; 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:
+ &lsquo;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?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ For some minutes profound silence reigned on the terrace.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Then the Consul, turning to the two women, asked, &ldquo;Was she virtuous?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mademoiselle des Touches rose, took the Consul&rsquo;s arm, went a few steps
+ away, and said to him:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mademoiselle des Touches turned from the Consul, and was immediately
+ joined by Claude Vignon, who said in her ear:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;A bit of a coxcomb is M. de l&rsquo;Hostal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied she, whispering to Claude these words: &ldquo;for he has not yet
+ guessed that Honorine would have loved him.&mdash;Oh!&rdquo; she exclaimed,
+ seeing the Consul&rsquo;s wife approaching, &ldquo;his wife was listening! Unhappy
+ man!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Eleven was striking by all the clocks, and the guests went home on foot
+ along the seashore.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Still, that is not life,&rdquo; said Mademoiselle des Touches. &ldquo;That woman was
+ one of the rarest, and perhaps the most extraordinary exceptions in
+ intellect&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; said Leon de Lora; &ldquo;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&rsquo;s roof, and never coming down, nor
+ seeing the world, nor dipping her feet in the street mud.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Such a thing has been known&mdash;for a few months,&rdquo; said Claude Vignon,
+ with deep irony.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Comtesse Honorine is not unique of her kind,&rdquo; replied the Ambassador to
+ Mademoiselle des Touches. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Then there are yet some great souls in this age!&rdquo; 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&rsquo;s Life
+
+ Bianchon, Horace
+ Father Goriot
+ The Atheist&rsquo;s Mass
+ Cesar Birotteau
+ The Commission in Lunacy
+ Lost Illusions
+ A Distinguished Provincial at Paris
+ A Bachelor&rsquo;s Establishment
+ The Secrets of a Princess
+ The Government Clerks
+ Pierrette
+ A Study of Woman
+ Scenes from a Courtesan&rsquo;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&rsquo;s Mass
+ Cousin Pons
+ Lost Illusions
+ The Thirteen
+ The Government Clerks
+ Pierrette
+ A Bachelor&rsquo;s Establishment
+ The Seamy Side of History
+ Modeste Mignon
+ Scenes from a Courtesan&rsquo;s Life
+
+ Fontanon, Abbe
+ A Second Home
+ The Government Clerks
+ The Member for Arcis
+
+ Gaudissart, Felix
+ Scenes from a Courtesan&rsquo;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&rsquo;s Life
+ A Daughter of Eve
+ Cousin Pons
+
+ Lora, Leon de
+ The Unconscious Humorists
+ A Bachelor&rsquo;s Establishment
+ A Start in Life
+ Pierre Grassou
+ Cousin Betty
+ Beatrix
+
+ Loraux, Abbe
+ A Start in Life
+ A Bachelor&rsquo;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&rsquo;s Establishment
+ Modeste Mignon
+ Scenes from a Courtesan&rsquo;s Life
+
+ Touches, Mademoiselle Felicite des
+ Beatrix
+ Lost Illusions
+ A Distinguished Provincial at Paris
+ A Bachelor&rsquo;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
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+</pre>
+ </body>
+</html>
diff --git a/1683.txt b/1683.txt
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--- /dev/null
+++ b/1683.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,3481 @@
+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: March, 1998 [Etext #1683]
+Posting Date: February 28, 2010
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HONORINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by John Bickers, and Dagny
+
+
+
+
+
+HONORINE
+
+
+By Honore De Balzac
+
+
+
+Translated by Clara Bell
+
+
+
+ DEDICATION
+
+ To Monsieur Achille Deveria
+
+ An affectionate remembrance from the Author.
+
+
+
+
+
+HONORINE
+
+
+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.
+
+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 _Rocher
+de Cancale_ 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 _sposo_ 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.
+
+A man is not a diplomate with impunity: the _sposo_ 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
+_malade imaginaire_. If it was real, the women thought it too degrading
+to be believed.
+
+Pedrotti's daughter gave him her love as a consolation; she lulled these
+unknown griefs in a cradle of tenderness and Italian caresses.
+
+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.
+
+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 _fazzioli_. 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 _Pensieroso_, 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.
+
+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.
+
+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 _Zadig_, 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.
+
+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.
+
+"How long are we going to play at hide-and-seek in this way?" said Leon
+de Lora.
+
+"_Cara vita_, 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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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:--
+
+"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:
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'What, uncle! must I say good-bye to this room, where for four years I
+have been so happy?'
+
+"'I have no fortune to leave you,' said he.
+
+"'Have you not the reputation of your name to leave me, the memory of
+your good works----?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Are you the Count's director?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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--_Inquire of
+the Porter_ 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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.
+
+"'Maurice.'
+
+"'He has taken his doctor's degree in law,' my uncle observed.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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 _Confessional of the Black Penitents (The Italian)_, a superior
+creation, as it seems to me, to _The Monk_.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"The man-servant came in carrying a tray with his master's breakfast on
+it.
+
+"'I did not ask for breakfast,' remarked the Count; 'but leave it, and
+show monsieur to his rooms.'
+
+"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:
+
+"'He may do wrong, for he has strong feelings, and we are all liable to
+honorable mistakes; but he has no vices.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'At my uncle's I had but one room,' replied I.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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!
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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?
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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?'
+
+"I decided on the second alternative.
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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?'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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 _Inferno_, horrible joys had their birth."
+
+The Consul-General paused.
+
+
+
+"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.
+
+"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.'
+
+"It was nine o'clock.
+
+"'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----'
+
+"'It depends on the priest.'
+
+"'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----'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Ah! the Church saw the difficulties,' exclaimed M. de Grandville.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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?
+
+"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:
+
+"'Stay.'
+
+
+
+"This, as nearly as may be, is his story.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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:
+
+"'"Would you like that we should be married? With me you could do
+whatever you please, while another man would make you unhappy."
+
+"'"Mamma," said she to my mother, who came out to join us, "Octave and I
+have agreed to be married----"
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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?'
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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!----'
+
+"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:--
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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 _accoucheur_ 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.
+
+"'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."
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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."
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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?
+
+"'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!'
+
+"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.
+
+"'I am very ridiculous,' he added, after a long pause, looking at me, as
+if craving a glance of pity.
+
+"'No, monsieur, you are very unhappy.'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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..."
+
+"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?
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"But I will not talk of myself," said the Consul after a pause.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"The Countess was in despair.
+
+"'My good Gobain,' said she, 'what sort of man is this florist?'
+
+"'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----'
+
+"'Why--what?'
+
+"'Well, your neighbor is a little cracked!' said Gobain, tapping her
+head!
+
+"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.
+
+"'What ails him then?' asked the Countess.
+
+"'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----'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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!'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'He is perfectly right,' said the Countess.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'Madame,' said the housekeeper, 'this good man is your neighbor.'
+
+"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!'
+
+"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.
+
+"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 _mignonne_, 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.
+
+"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:
+
+"'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.
+
+"I was very near forgetting my part as a half-crazy lout, clumsy, and by
+no means chivalrous.
+
+"'I am told, madame, that you are fond of flowers?'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'Let us stick to the question of the wall,' said she, with a smile.
+
+"'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!'
+
+"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.
+
+"'So you are very fond of flowers?' said she.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'As you please,' said I, and with one leap I was over the paling.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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!"'
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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; _ergo_, you forget.'
+
+"'I!' she exclaimed, evading my question, 'I am not a woman. I am a nun,
+and seventy-two years old!'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'I am a nun,' she said, 'and you talk to me of the world where I shall
+never again set foot.'
+
+"'Not even in thought?' said I.
+
+"'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----'
+
+"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:
+
+"'Lucretia's dagger wrote in letters of blood the watchword of woman's
+charter: _Liberty!_'
+
+"From that moment the Count left me free to act.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'This is not becoming in a woman,' said I.
+
+"'Pooh! Am I a woman? I am a boy gifted with a soft soul, that is all; a
+boy whom no woman can torture----'
+
+"'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----'
+
+"'For what?' said she, somewhat disturbed by a speech which, for the
+first time, gave the lie to the part I had assumed.
+
+"'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!'
+
+"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:
+
+"'What has happened, madame? Monsieur Maurice is crying like a child.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'You are not the cause of this attack,' said she. 'I am subject to
+these spasms, a sort of cramp of the heart----'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'Marie!' she called as she rang the bell. Gobain came in.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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:
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'If I chose----' said I.
+
+"'If?' she repeated.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'I defy you!' she exclaimed, with ill-disguised uneasiness.
+
+"'Seriously?'
+
+"'Certainly,' said she, tossing her head. 'If such a crime is possible,
+I ought to know it.'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'That means that you will fly----'
+
+"'On wings!' she cried, 'to the New World----'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'What do other women do?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'They are right if the thing required appears to be a sacrifice!'
+replied she pointedly.
+
+"'Instead of sacrifices, say efforts and----'
+
+"'It would be an impertinence,' said she.
+
+"'Forgive me,' said I. 'I forget that woman and the Pope are
+infallible.'
+
+"'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----'
+
+"She rose and paid no further heed to me.
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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----?'
+
+"'I have already saved a thousand crowns,' she said.
+
+"'Heavens! what privations such a sum must represent!' I exclaimed.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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:
+
+"'The battle is to-morrow.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'Madame la Comtesse,' said I with a grave smile.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'In my own house,' she replied, opening her eyes with a wide stare of
+astonishment.
+
+"'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 _Cecile_, 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...'
+
+"'That is enough,' she said. 'I want to know but one thing more. From
+whom have you obtained all these details?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'I will go!' she cried through her tears. 'He forces me to it; I will
+go where no one certainly will come after me.'
+
+"'What,' I said, 'you would kill yourself?--Madame, you must have some
+very powerful reasons for not wishing to return to Comte Octave.'
+
+"'Certainly I have!'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Oh! there is always a convent!' said she.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'And how? By what means?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'But,' said she, 'will there never be a man who understands me?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Ah! you love him,' I said.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'And you would accept the equal chances,' said I.
+
+"'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!'
+
+"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.
+
+"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:--
+
+"'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--
+
+"'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.
+
+"'"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.
+
+"'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?
+
+"'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!
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'Come then, and tell me where I may find the solitude, the peace, the
+silence, so kindly to irreparable woes, which you promised me.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'She is mine!' cried the Count, whose face expressed joy as he went on
+reading the letter.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'What ails you, Maurice?' said he, struck by my changed expression.
+
+"'Monsieur le Comte----'
+
+"'No longer Octave? You, to whom I shall owe my life, my happiness----'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Poor boy!' said he, taking my hand, which he pressed, while he kept
+back the tears that were starting to his eyes.
+
+"'You gave me the gloves,' I said, laughing, 'but I have not put them
+on; that is all.'
+
+"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:
+
+"'Now, is not life at a deadlock for me?'
+
+"'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....'
+
+"'How?' said she; her whole person was a question.
+
+"'Your letter is in the Count's hands.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'You--a friend? Say rather a traitor! A spy, perhaps, sent by my
+husband.'
+
+"Instinct in women is as strong as the perspicacity of great men.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'Monsieur the Cure of the White Friars,' said old Gobain.
+
+"'Are you come, uncle, with a message of happiness and peace?' said I.
+
+"'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:--
+
+"'MY DEAR HONORINE,--
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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 _quipos_,
+the tally cords of the Peruvians, they are the record of our sorrows.
+
+"'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...'
+
+"'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----'
+
+"'Ah!' I exclaimed.
+
+"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the
+Countess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.
+
+"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.
+
+"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'
+
+"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.
+
+"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again to finish reading it.
+My uncle signed to me, and I rose.
+
+"'Let us leave the Countess,' said he.
+
+"'You are going already Maurice?' she said, without looking at me.
+
+"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...'
+
+"'No,' I replied, wringing her hand, so that she cried out. 'You love
+your husband. I leave to-morrow.'
+
+"And I rushed away, leaving my uncle, to whom she said:
+
+"'Why, what is the matter with your nephew?'
+
+"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.
+
+"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:--
+
+"'MY DEAR MAURICE,--
+
+"'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 _pavillon_ 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.
+
+"'"Madame had to dress," said Gobain, to hide Honorine's hesitancy under
+a pride of appearance which was flattering to me.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'"There is no crime in being in love with your wife," said she with a
+forced smile.
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'"I have long known your kindness," said she.
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'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.
+
+"'"I am conquered," said she, holding out her hand, which I kissed.
+"Come and see me as often as you like."
+
+"'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.
+
+"'"Why not live always as we are?" she said.
+
+"'I submitted without saying a word.
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'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?
+
+"'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.
+
+"'"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----"
+
+"'I made a movement.
+
+"'"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.
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'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:
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'She did more; she knelt before me on a cushion, and in a spirit of
+sublime charity she said:
+
+"'"And perhaps I shall not die!"
+
+"'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?"'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"Six months after the revolution of July I received this letter, which
+concludes the story of this couple:--
+
+"'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.
+
+"'And I have done my duty.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'I said to the doctors, who discovered my secret, "Make me die of some
+plausible complaint, or I shall drag my husband with me."
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.'"
+
+"And the Countess died," said the Consul, putting away the letters and
+locking the pocket-book.
+
+"Is the Count still living?" asked the Ambassador, "for since the
+revolution of July he has disappeared from the political stage."
+
+"Do you remember, Monsieur de Lora," said the Consul-General, "having
+seen me going to the steamboat with----"
+
+"A white-haired man! an old man?" said the painter.
+
+"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."
+
+"Does he suspect himself of murder?" said Mademoiselle des Touches to
+the Baron de l'Hostal.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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?'"
+
+For some minutes profound silence reigned on the terrace.
+
+Then the Consul, turning to the two women, asked, "Was she virtuous?"
+
+Mademoiselle des Touches rose, took the Consul's arm, went a few steps
+away, and said to him:
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+Mademoiselle des Touches turned from the Consul, and was immediately
+joined by Claude Vignon, who said in her ear:
+
+"A bit of a coxcomb is M. de l'Hostal."
+
+"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!"
+
+Eleven was striking by all the clocks, and the guests went home on foot
+along the seashore.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Such a thing has been known--for a few months," said Claude Vignon,
+with deep irony.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+
+
+
+ADDENDUM
+
+The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy.
+
+ 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
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Honorine, by Honore de Balzac
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #1683 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1683)
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+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.net
+
+
+Title: Honorine
+
+Author: Honore de Balzac
+
+Release Date: December 10, 2006 [EBook #1683]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HONORINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Dagny, and John Bickers
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ HONORINE
+
+ BY
+
+ HONORE DE BALZAC
+
+
+
+ Translated By
+ Clara Bell
+
+
+
+ DEDICATION
+
+ To Monsieur Achille Deveria
+
+ An affectionate remembrance from the Author.
+
+
+
+ HONORINE
+
+
+
+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.
+
+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 _Rocher
+de Cancale_ 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 _sposo_ 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.
+
+A man is not a diplomate with impunity: the _sposo_ 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 _malade imaginaire_. If it was real, the women thought it
+too degrading to be believed.
+
+Pedrotti's daughter gave him her love as a consolation; she lulled
+these unknown griefs in a cradle of tenderness and Italian caresses.
+
+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.
+
+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 _fazzioli_. 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 _Pensieroso_, 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.
+
+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.
+
+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 _Zadig_, 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.
+
+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.
+
+"How long are we going to play at hide-and-seek in this way?" said
+Leon de Lora.
+
+"_Cara vita_, 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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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:--
+
+"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:
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'What, uncle! must I say good-bye to this room, where for four years
+I have been so happy?'
+
+"'I have no fortune to leave you,' said he.
+
+"'Have you not the reputation of your name to leave me, the memory of
+your good works----?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Are you the Count's director?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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--_Inquire of the Porter_ 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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.
+
+"'Maurice.'
+
+"'He has taken his doctor's degree in law,' my uncle observed.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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 _Confessional of the
+Black Penitents (The Italian)_, a superior creation, as it seems to
+me, to _The Monk_.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"The man-servant came in carrying a tray with his master's breakfast
+on it.
+
+"'I did not ask for breakfast,' remarked the Count; 'but leave it,
+and show monsieur to his rooms.'
+
+"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:
+
+"'He may do wrong, for he has strong feelings, and we are all liable
+to honorable mistakes; but he has no vices.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'At my uncle's I had but one room,' replied I.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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!
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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?
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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?'
+
+"I decided on the second alternative.
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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?'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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 _Inferno_, horrible joys had their birth."
+
+The Consul-General paused.
+
+
+
+"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.
+
+"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.'
+
+"It was nine o'clock.
+
+"'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----'
+
+"'It depends on the priest.'
+
+"'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----'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Ah! the Church saw the difficulties,' exclaimed M. de Grandville.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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?
+
+"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:
+
+"'Stay.'
+
+
+
+"This, as nearly as may be, is his story.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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:
+
+"'"Would you like that we should be married? With me you could do
+whatever you please, while another man would make you unhappy."
+
+"'"Mamma," said she to my mother, who came out to join us, "Octave
+and I have agreed to be married----"
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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?'
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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!----'
+
+"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:--
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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 _accoucheur_ 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.
+
+"'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."
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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."
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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?
+
+"'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!'
+
+"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.
+
+"'I am very ridiculous,' he added, after a long pause, looking at me,
+as if craving a glance of pity.
+
+"'No, monsieur, you are very unhappy.'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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 . . ."
+
+"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?
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"But I will not talk of myself," said the Consul after a pause.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"The Countess was in despair.
+
+"'My good Gobain,' said she, 'what sort of man is this florist?'
+
+"'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----'
+
+"'Why--what?'
+
+"'Well, your neighbor is a little cracked!' said Gobain, tapping her
+head!
+
+"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.
+
+"'What ails him then?' asked the Countess.
+
+"'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----'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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!'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'He is perfectly right,' said the Countess.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'Madame,' said the housekeeper, 'this good man is your neighbor.'
+
+"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!'
+
+"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.
+
+"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 _mignonne_,
+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.
+
+"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:
+
+"'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.
+
+"I was very near forgetting my part as a half-crazy lout, clumsy, and
+by no means chivalrous.
+
+"'I am told, madame, that you are fond of flowers?'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'Let us stick to the question of the wall,' said she, with a smile.
+
+"'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!'
+
+"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.
+
+"'So you are very fond of flowers?' said she.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'As you please,' said I, and with one leap I was over the paling.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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!"'
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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; _ergo_, you forget.'
+
+"'I!' she exclaimed, evading my question, 'I am not a woman. I am a
+nun, and seventy-two years old!'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'I am a nun,' she said, 'and you talk to me of the world where I
+shall never again set foot.'
+
+"'Not even in thought?' said I.
+
+"'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----'
+
+"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:
+
+"'Lucretia's dagger wrote in letters of blood the watchword of
+woman's charter: _Liberty!_'
+
+"From that moment the Count left me free to act.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'This is not becoming in a woman,' said I.
+
+"'Pooh! Am I a woman? I am a boy gifted with a soft soul, that is
+all; a boy whom no woman can torture----'
+
+"'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----'
+
+"'For what?' said she, somewhat disturbed by a speech which, for the
+first time, gave the lie to the part I had assumed.
+
+"'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!'
+
+"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:
+
+"'What has happened, madame? Monsieur Maurice is crying like a
+child.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'You are not the cause of this attack,' said she. 'I am subject to
+these spasms, a sort of cramp of the heart----'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'Marie!' she called as she rang the bell. Gobain came in.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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:
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'If I chose----' said I.
+
+"'If?' she repeated.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'I defy you!' she exclaimed, with ill-disguised uneasiness.
+
+"'Seriously?'
+
+"'Certainly,' said she, tossing her head. 'If such a crime is
+possible, I ought to know it.'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'That means that you will fly----'
+
+"'On wings!' she cried, 'to the New World----'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'What do other women do?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'They are right if the thing required appears to be a sacrifice!'
+replied she pointedly.
+
+"'Instead of sacrifices, say efforts and----'
+
+"'It would be an impertinence,' said she.
+
+"'Forgive me,' said I. 'I forget that woman and the Pope are
+infallible.'
+
+"'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----'
+
+"She rose and paid no further heed to me.
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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----?'
+
+"'I have already saved a thousand crowns,' she said.
+
+"'Heavens! what privations such a sum must represent!' I exclaimed.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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:
+
+"'The battle is to-morrow.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'Madame la Comtesse,' said I with a grave smile.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'In my own house,' she replied, opening her eyes with a wide stare
+of astonishment.
+
+"'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 _Cecile_, 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 . . .'
+
+"'That is enough,' she said. 'I want to know but one thing more. From
+whom have you obtained all these details?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'I will go!' she cried through her tears. 'He forces me to it; I
+will go where no one certainly will come after me.'
+
+"'What,' I said, 'you would kill yourself?--Madame, you must have
+some very powerful reasons for not wishing to return to Comte Octave.'
+
+"'Certainly I have!'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Oh! there is always a convent!' said she.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'And how? By what means?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'But,' said she, 'will there never be a man who understands me?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Ah! you love him,' I said.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'And you would accept the equal chances,' said I.
+
+"'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!'
+
+"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.
+
+"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:--
+
+"'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--
+
+"'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.
+
+"'"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.
+
+"'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?
+
+"'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!
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'Come then, and tell me where I may find the solitude, the peace,
+the silence, so kindly to irreparable woes, which you promised me.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'She is mine!' cried the Count, whose face expressed joy as he went
+on reading the letter.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'What ails you, Maurice?' said he, struck by my changed expression.
+
+"'Monsieur le Comte----'
+
+"'No longer Octave? You, to whom I shall owe my life, my
+happiness----'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Poor boy!' said he, taking my hand, which he pressed, while he kept
+back the tears that were starting to his eyes.
+
+"'You gave me the gloves,' I said, laughing, 'but I have not put them
+on; that is all.'
+
+"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:
+
+"'Now, is not life at a deadlock for me?'
+
+"'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. . . .'
+
+"'How?' said she; her whole person was a question.
+
+"'Your letter is in the Count's hands.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'You--a friend? Say rather a traitor! A spy, perhaps, sent by my
+husband.'
+
+"Instinct in women is as strong as the perspicacity of great men.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'Monsieur the Cure of the White Friars,' said old Gobain.
+
+"'Are you come, uncle, with a message of happiness and peace?' said
+I.
+
+"'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:--
+
+"'MY DEAR HONORINE,--
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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 _quipos_, the tally cords of the
+Peruvians, they are the record of our sorrows.
+
+"'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 that 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 . . .'
+
+"'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----'
+
+"'Ah!' I exclaimed.
+
+"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the
+Countess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.
+
+"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.
+
+"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'
+
+"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.
+
+"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again to finish reading it.
+My uncle signed to me, and I rose.
+
+"'Let us leave the Countess,' said he.
+
+"'You are going already Maurice?' she said, without looking at me.
+
+"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 . . .'
+
+"'No,' I replied, wringing her hand, so that she cried out. 'You love
+your husband. I leave to-morrow.'
+
+"And I rushed away, leaving my uncle, to whom she said:
+
+"'Why, what is the matter with your nephew?'
+
+"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.
+
+"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:--
+
+"'MY DEAR MAURICE,--
+
+"'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 _pavillon_ 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.
+
+"'"Madame had to dress," said Gobain, to hide Honorine's hesitancy
+under a pride of appearance which was flattering to me.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'"There is no crime in being in love with your wife," said she with
+a forced smile.
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'"I have long known your kindness," said she.
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'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.
+
+"'"I am conquered," said she, holding out her hand, which I kissed.
+"Come and see me as often as you like."
+
+"'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.
+
+"'"Why not live always as we are?" she said.
+
+"'I submitted without saying a word.
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'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?
+
+"'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.
+
+"'"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----"
+
+"'I made a movement.
+
+"'"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.
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'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:
+
+"'"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."
+
+"'She did more; she knelt before me on a cushion, and in a spirit of
+sublime charity she said:
+
+"'"And perhaps I shall not die!"
+
+"'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?"'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"Six months after the revolution of July I received this letter, which
+concludes the story of this couple:--
+
+"'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.
+
+"'And I have done my duty.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'I said to the doctors, who discovered my secret, "Make me die of
+some plausible complaint, or I shall drag my husband with me."
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.'"
+
+"And the Countess died," said the Consul, putting away the letters and
+locking the pocket-book.
+
+"Is the Count still living?" asked the Ambassador, "for since the
+revolution of July he has disappeared from the political stage."
+
+"Do you remember, Monsieur de Lora," said the Consul-General, "having
+seen me going to the steamboat with----"
+
+"A white-haired man! an old man?" said the painter.
+
+"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."
+
+"Does he suspect himself of murder?" said Mademoiselle des Touches to
+the Baron de l'Hostal.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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?'"
+
+For some minutes profound silence reigned on the terrace.
+
+Then the Consul, turning to the two women, asked, "Was she virtuous?"
+
+Mademoiselle des Touches rose, took the Consul's arm, went a few steps
+away, and said to him:
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+Mademoiselle des Touches turned from the Consul, and was immediately
+joined by Claude Vignon, who said in her ear:
+
+"A bit of a coxcomb is M. de l'Hostal."
+
+"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!"
+
+Eleven was striking by all the clocks, and the guests went home on
+foot along the seashore.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Such a thing has been known--for a few months," said Claude Vignon,
+with deep irony.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+
+
+
+ADDENDUM
+
+The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy.
+
+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
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Honorine, by Honore de Balzac
+
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+**The Project Gutenberg Etext of Honorine, by Honore de Balzac**
+#59 in our series by Balzac
+
+
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+Honorine
+
+by Honore de Balzac
+
+Translated by Clara Bell
+
+March, 1998 [Etext #1683]
+
+
+**The Project Gutenberg Etext of Honorine, by Honore de Balzac**
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+
+
+
+Etext prepared by Dagny, dagnyj@hotmail.com
+and John Bickers, jbickers@templar.actrix.gen.nz
+
+
+
+
+
+HONORINE
+
+by HONORE DE BALZAC
+
+
+
+
+Translated By
+Clara Bell
+
+
+
+
+DEDICATION
+
+To Monsieur Achille Deveria
+
+An affectionate remembrance from the Author.
+
+
+
+
+HONORINE
+
+
+
+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.
+
+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 /Rocher de Cancale/ 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 Petrotti 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.
+
+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 /sposo/ 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.
+
+A man is not a diplomate with impunity: the /sposo/ 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 /malade imaginaire/. If it was real, the women thought it
+too degrading to be believed.
+
+Pedrotti's daughter gave him her love as a consolation; she lulled
+these unknown griefs in a cradle of tenderness and Italian caresses.
+
+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 183l.
+
+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 /fazzioli/. 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 /Pensieroso/, 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.
+
+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.
+
+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 /Zadig/, 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.
+
+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.
+
+"How long are we going to play at hide-and-seek in this way?" said
+Leon de Lora.
+
+"/Cara vita/, 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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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:--
+
+"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:
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'What, uncle! must I say good-bye to this room, where for four years
+I have been so happy?'
+
+" 'I have no fortune to leave you,' said he.
+
+" 'Have you not the reputation of your name to leave me, the memory of
+your good works----?'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'Are you the Count's director?'
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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--/Inquire of the Porter/ 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.
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" '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.
+
+" 'Maurice.'
+
+" 'He has taken his doctor's degree in law,' my uncle observed.
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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 /Confessional of the
+Black Penitents (The Italian)/, a superior creation, as it seems to
+me, to /The Monk/.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"The man-servant came in carrying a tray with his master's breakfast
+on it.
+
+" 'I did not ask for breakfast,' remarked the Count; 'but leave it,
+and show monsieur to his rooms.'
+
+"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:
+
+" 'He may do wrong, for he has strong feelings, and we are all liable
+to honorable mistakes; but he has no vices.'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'At my uncle's I had but one room,' replied I.
+
+" '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.
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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!
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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?
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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?'
+
+"I decided on the second alternative.
+
+" '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?'
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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?'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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 /Inferno/, horrible joys had their birth."
+
+The Consul-General paused.
+
+
+
+"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.
+
+"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.'
+
+"It was nine o'clock.
+
+" '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----'
+
+" 'It depends on the priest.'
+
+" '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----'
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+" '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?'
+
+" '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?'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'Ah! the Church saw the difficulties,' exclaimed M. de Grandville.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.'
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.'
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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?
+
+"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:
+
+" 'Stay.'
+
+
+
+"This, as nearly as may be, is his story.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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:
+
+" ' "Would you like that we should be married? With me you could do
+whatever you please, while another man would make you unhappy."
+
+" ' "Mamma," said she to my mother, who came out to join us, "Octave
+and I have agreed to be married----"
+
+" ' "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."
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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?'
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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!----'
+
+"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:--
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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 /accoucheur/ 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.
+
+" '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."
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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."
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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?
+
+" '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!'
+
+"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.
+
+" 'I am very ridiculous,' he added, after a long pause, looking at me,
+as if craving a glance of pity.
+
+" 'No, monsieur, you are very unhappy.'
+
+" '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?'
+
+" '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?'
+
+" '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 . . ."
+
+"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?
+
+" '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.
+
+"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.
+
+"But I will not talk of myself," said the Consul after a pause.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"The Countess was in despair.
+
+" 'My good Gobain,' said she, 'what sort of man is this florist?'
+
+" '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----'
+
+" 'Why--what?'
+
+" 'Well, your neighbor is a little cracked!' said Gobain, tapping her
+head!
+
+"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.
+
+" 'What ails him then?' asked the Countess.
+
+" '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----'
+
+" '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.,'
+
+"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!'
+
+" "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.'
+
+" 'He is perfectly right,' said the Countess.
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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.
+
+" 'Madame,' said the housekeeper, 'this good man is your neighbor.'
+
+"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!'
+
+"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.
+
+"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 /mignonne/,
+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.
+
+"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:
+
+" '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.
+
+"I was very near forgetting my part as a half-crazy lout, clumsy, and
+by no means chivalrous.
+
+" 'I am told, madame, that you are fond of flowers?'
+
+" '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?'
+
+" '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?'
+
+" 'Let us stick to the question of the wall,' said she, with a smile.
+
+" '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!'
+
+"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.
+
+" 'So you are very fond of flowers?' said she.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'As you please,' said I, and with one leap I was over the paling.
+
+" '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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+" '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!" '
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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; /ergo/, you forget.'
+
+" 'I!' she exclaimed, evading my question, 'I am not a woman. I am a
+nun, and seventy-two years old!'
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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.
+
+" 'I am a nun,' she said, 'and you talk to me of the world where I
+shall never again set foot.'
+
+" 'Not even in thought?' said I.
+
+" '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----'
+
+"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:
+
+" 'Lucretia's dagger wrote in letters of blood the watchword of
+woman's charter: /Liberty!/'
+
+"From that moment the Count left me free to act.
+
+" '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.
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'This is not becoming in a woman,' said I.
+
+" 'Pooh! Am I a woman? I am a boy gifted with a soft soul, that is
+all; a boy whom no woman can torture----'
+
+" '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----'
+
+" 'For what?' said she, somewhat disturbed by a speech which, for the
+first time, gave the lie to the part I had assumed.
+
+" '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!'
+
+"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:
+
+" 'What has happened, madame? Monsieur Maurice is crying like a
+child.'
+
+"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.
+
+" 'You are not the cause of this attack,' said she. 'I am subject to
+these spasms, a sort of cramp of the heart----'
+
+" '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?'
+
+" 'Marie!' she called as she rang the bell. Gobain came in.
+
+" '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.
+
+"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:
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'If I chose----' said I.
+
+" 'If?' she repeated.
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'I defy you!' she exclaimed, with ill-disguised uneasiness.
+
+" 'Seriously?'
+
+" 'Certainly,' said she, tossing her head. 'If such a crime is
+possible, I ought to know it.'
+
+" '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?'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'That means that you will fly----'
+
+" 'On wings!' she cried, 'to the New World----'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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?'
+
+" 'What do other women do?'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'They are right if the thing required appears to be a sacrifice!'
+replied she pointedly.
+
+" 'Instead of sacrifices, say efforts and----'
+
+" 'It would be an impertinence,' said she.
+
+" 'Forgive me,' said I. 'I forget that woman and the Pope are
+infallible.'
+
+" '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----'
+
+"She rose and paid no further heed to me.
+
+" '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?'
+
+" '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----?'
+
+" 'I have already saved a thousand crowns,' she said.
+
+" 'Heavens! what privations such a sum must represent!' I exclaimed.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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:
+
+" 'The battle is to-morrow.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+" 'Madame la Comtesse,' said I with a grave smile.
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" 'In my own house,' she replied, opening her eyes with a wide stare
+of astonishment.
+
+" '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 /Cecile/, 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 . . .'
+
+" 'That is enough,' she said. 'I want to know but one thing more. From
+whom have you obtained all these details?'
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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.
+
+" 'I will go!' she cried through her tears. 'He forces me to it; I
+will go where no one certainly will come after me.'
+
+" 'What,' I said, 'you would kill yourself?--Madame, you must have
+some very powerful reasons for not wishing to return to Comte Octave.'
+
+" 'Certainly I have!'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'Oh! there is always a convent!' said she.
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'And how? By what means?'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'But,' said she, 'will there never be a man who understands me?'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'Ah! you love him,' I said.
+
+" '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.'
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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.
+
+" '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?'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'And you would accept the equal chances,' said I.
+
+" '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!'
+
+"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.
+
+"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:--
+
+" 'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--
+
+" '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.
+
+" ' "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.
+
+" '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?
+
+" '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!
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" 'Come then, and tell me where I may find the solitude, the peace,
+the silence, so kindly to irreparable woes, which you promised me.'
+
+"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.
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'She is mine!' cried the Count, whose face expressed joy as he went
+on reading the letter.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+" 'What ails you, Maurice?' said he, struck by my changed expression.
+
+" 'Monsieur le Comte----'
+
+" 'No longer Octave? You, to whom I shall owe my life, my
+happiness----'
+
+" '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.'
+
+" 'Poor boy!' said he, taking my hand, which he pressed, while he kept
+back the tears that were starting to his eyes.
+
+" 'You gave me the gloves,' I said, laughing, 'but I have not put them
+on; that is all.'
+
+"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:
+
+" 'Now, is not life at a deadlock for me?'
+
+" '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. . . .'
+
+" 'How?' said she; her whole person was a question.
+
+" 'Your letter is in the Count's hands.'
+
+"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.
+
+" 'You--a friend? Say rather a traitor! A spy, perhaps, sent by my
+husband.'
+
+"Instinct in women is as strong as the perspicacity of great men.
+
+" '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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+" 'Monsieur the Cure of the White Friars,' said old Gobain.
+
+" 'Are you come, uncle, with a message of happiness and peace?' said
+I.
+
+" '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:--
+
+" 'MY DEAR HONORINE,--
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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 /quipos/, the tally cords of the
+Peruvians, they are the record of our sorrows.
+
+" '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 that 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 . . .'
+
+" '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----'
+
+" 'Ah!' I exclaimed.
+
+"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the
+Countess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.
+
+"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.
+
+" 'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'
+
+"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.
+
+"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again to finish reading it.
+My uncle signed to me, and I rose.
+
+" 'Let us leave the Countess,' said he.
+
+" 'You are going already Maurice?' she said, without looking at me.
+
+"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 . . .'
+
+" 'No,' I replied, wringing her hand, so that she cried out. 'You love
+your husband. I leave to-morrow.'
+
+"And I rushed away, leaving my uncle, to whom she said:
+
+" 'Why, what is the matter with your nephew?'
+
+"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.
+
+"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:--
+
+" 'MY DEAR MAURICE,--
+
+" '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 /pavillon/ 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.
+
+" ' "Madame had to dress," said Gobain, to hide Honorine's hesitancy
+under a pride of appearance which was flattering to me.
+
+" '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.
+
+" ' "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."
+
+" ' "There is no crime in being in love with your wife," said she with
+a forced smile.
+
+" ' "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."
+
+" ' "I have long known your kindness," said she.
+
+" ' "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."
+
+" '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.
+
+" ' "I am conquered," said she, holding out her hand, which I kissed.
+"Come and see me as often as you like."
+
+" '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.
+
+" ' "Why not live always as we are?" she said.
+
+" 'I submitted without saying a word.
+
+" ' "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."
+
+" '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?
+
+" '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.
+
+" ' "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----"
+
+" 'I made a movement.
+
+" ' "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.
+
+" ' "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."
+
+" '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:
+
+" ' "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."
+
+" 'She did more; she knelt before me on a cushion, and in a spirit of
+sublime charity she said:
+
+" ' "And perhaps I shall not die!"
+
+" '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?" '
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"Six months after the revolution of July I received this letter, which
+concludes the story of this couple:--
+
+" '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.
+
+" 'And I have done my duty.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" 'I said to the doctors, who discovered my secret, "Make me die of
+some plausible complaint, or I shall drag my husband with me."
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.
+
+" '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.' "
+
+"And the Countess died," said the Consul, putting away the letters and
+locking the pocket-book.
+
+"Is the Count still living?" asked the Ambassador, "for since the
+revolution of July he has disappeared from the political stage."
+
+"Do you remember, Monsieur de Lora," said the Consul-General, "having
+seen me going to the steamboat with----"
+
+"A white-haired man! an old man?" said the painter.
+
+"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."
+
+"Does he suspect himself of murder?" said Mademoiselle des Touches to
+the Baron de l'Hostal.
+
+"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.
+
+" '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?' "
+
+For some minutes profound silence reigned on the terrace.
+
+Then the Consul, turning to the two women, asked, "Was she virtuous?"
+
+Mademoiselle des Touches rose, took the Consul's arm, went a few steps
+away, and said to him:
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+Mademoiselle des Touches turned from the Consul, and was immediately
+joined by Claude Vignon, who said in her ear:
+
+"A bit of a coxcomb is M. de l'Hostal."
+
+"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!"
+
+Eleven was striking by all the clocks, and the guests went home on
+foot along the seashore.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Such a thing has been known--for a few months," said Claude Vignon,
+with deep irony.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+
+
+
+ADDENDUM
+
+The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy.
+
+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
+
+
+
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Honorine, by Honore de Balzac
+
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