“ ‘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, tomorrow, 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 tomorrow. 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 tomorrow, 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 tomorrow.’
“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 halfway 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
