the lily of the valley-第53章

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in　the　heart　of　these　sanctified　affections；　and　turns　to　bitterness

those　that　might　have　led　me　astray〃



〃Good！〃　cried　the　abbe；　joyfully。　〃Monsieur　le　vicomte　begins　to　know

as　much　as　I〃



Just　then　Jacques　coughed。



〃Enough　for　to…day；　my　dear　abbe；〃　said　the　countess；　〃above　all；　no

chemistry。　Go　for　a　ride　on　horseback；　Jacques；〃　she　added；　letting

her　son　kiss　her　with　the　tender　and　yet　dignified　pleasure　of　a

mother。　〃Go；　dear；　but　take　care　of　yourself。〃



〃But；〃　I　said；　as　her　eyes　followed　Jacques　with　a　lingering　look；

〃you　have　not　answered　me。　Do　you　feel　ill？〃



〃Oh；　sometimes；　in　my　stomach。　If　I　were　in　Paris　I　should　have　the

honors　of　gastritis；　the　fashionable　disease。〃



〃My　mother　suffers　very　much　and　very　often；〃　said　Madeleine。



〃Ah！〃　she　said；　〃does　my　health　interest　you？〃



Madeleine；　astonished　at　the　irony　of　these　words；　looked　from　one　to

the　other；　my　eyes　counted　the　roses　on　the　cushion　of　the　gray　and

green　sofa　which　was　in　the　salon。



〃This　situation　is　intolerable；〃　I　whispered　in　her　ear。



〃Did　I　create　it？〃　she　asked。　〃Dear　child；〃　she　said　aloud；　with　one

of　those　cruel　levities　by　which　women　point　their　vengeance；　〃don't

you　read　history？　France　and　England　are　enemies；　and　ever　have　been。

Madeleine　knows　that；　she　knows　that　a　broad　sea；　and　a　cold　and

stormy　one；　separates　them。〃



The　vases　on　the　mantelshelf　had　given　place　to　candelabra；　no　doubt

to　deprive　me　of　the　pleasure　of　filling　them　with　flowers；　I　found

them　later　in　my　own　room。　When　my　servant　arrived　I　went　out　to　give

him　some　orders；　he　had　brought　me　certain　things　I　wished　to　place　in

my　room。



〃Felix；〃　said　the　countess；　〃do　not　make　a　mistake。　My　aunt's　old　room

is　now　Madeleine's。　Yours　is　over　the　count's。〃



Though　guilty；　I　had　a　heart；　those　words　were　dagger　thrusts　coldly

given　at　its　tenderest　spot；　for　which　she　seemed　to　aim。　Moral

sufferings　are　not　fixed　quantities；　they　depend　on　the　sensitiveness

of　souls。　The　countess　had　trod　each　round　of　the　ladder　of　pain；　but；

for　that　very　reason；　the　kindest　of　women　was　now　as　cruel　as　she　was

once　beneficent。　I　looked　at　Henriette；　but　she　averted　her　head。　I

went　to　my　new　room；　which　was　pretty；　white　and　green。　Once　there　I

burst　into　tears。　Henriette　heard　me　as　she　entered　with　a　bunch　of

flowers　in　her　hand。



〃Henriette；〃　I　said；　〃will　you　never　forgive　a　wrong　that　is　indeed

excusable？〃



〃Do　not　call　me　Henriette；〃　she　said。　〃She　no　longer　exists；　poor

soul；　but　you　may　feel　sure　of　Madame　de　Mortsauf；　a　devoted　friend；

who　will　listen　to　you　and　who　will　love　you。　Felix；　we　will　talk　of

these　things　later。　If　you　have　still　any　tenderness　for　me　let　me

grow　accustomed　to　seeing　you。　Whenever　words　will　not　rend　my　heart；

if　the　day　should　ever　come　when　I　recover　courage；　I　will　speak　to

you；　but　not　till　then。　Look　at　the　valley；〃　she　said；　pointing　to　the

Indre；　〃it　hurts　me；　I　love　it　still。〃



〃Ah；　perish　England　and　all　her　women！　I　will　send　my　resignation　to

the　king；　I　will　live　and　die　here；　pardoned。〃



〃No；　love　her；　love　that　woman！　Henriette　is　not。　This　is　no　play；　and

you　should　know　it。〃



She　left　the　room；　betraying　by　the　tone　of　her　last　words　the　extent

of　her　wounds。　I　ran　after　her　and　held　her　back；　saying；　〃Do　you　no

longer　love　me？〃



〃You　have　done　me　more　harm　than　all　my　other　troubles　put　together。

To…day　I　suffer　less；　therefore　I　love　you　less。　Be　kind；　do　not

increase　my　pain；　if　you　suffer；　remember　thatIlive。〃



She　withdrew　her　hand；　which　I　held；　cold；　motionless；　but　moist；　in

mine；　and　darted　like　an　arrow　through　the　corridor　in　which　this

scene　of　actual　tragedy　took　place。



At　dinner；　the　count　subjected　me　to　a　torture　I　had　little　expected。

〃So　the　Marchioness　of　Dudley　is　not　in　Paris？〃　he　said。



I　blushed　excessively；　but　answered；　〃No。〃



〃She　is　not　in　Tours；〃　continued　the　count。



〃She　is　not　divorced；　and　she　can　go　back　to　England。　Her　husband

would　be　very　glad　if　she　would　return　to　him；〃　I　said；　eagerly。



〃Has　she　children？〃　asked　Madame　de　Mortsauf；　in　a　changed　voice。



〃Two　sons；〃　I　replied。



〃Where　are　they？〃



〃In　England；　with　their　father。〃



〃Come；　Felix；〃　interposed　the　count；　〃be　frank；　is　she　as　handsome　as

they　say？〃



〃How　can　you　ask　him　such　a　question？〃　cried　the　countess。　〃Is　not　the

woman　you　love　always　the　handsomest　of　women？〃



〃Yes；　always；〃　I　said；　firmly；　with　a　glance　which　she　could　not

sustain。



〃You　are　a　happy　fellow；〃　said　the　count；　〃yes；　a　very　happy　one。　Ha！

in　my　young　days；　I　should　have　gone　mad　over　such　a　conquest〃



〃Hush！〃　said　Madame　de　Mortsauf；　reminding　the　count　of　Madeleine　by　a

look。



〃I　am　not　a　child；〃　he　said。



When　we　left　the　table　I　followed　the　countess　to　the　terrace。　When　we

were　alone　she　exclaimed；　〃How　is　it　possible　that　some　women　can

sacrifice　their　children　to　a　man？　Wealth；　position；　the　world；　I　can

conceive　of；　eternity？　yes；　possibly；　but　children！　deprive　one's　self

of　one's　children！〃



〃Yes；　and　such　women　would　give　even　more　if　they　had　it；　they

sacrifice　everything。〃



The　world　was　suddenly　reversed　before　her；　her　ideas　became　confused。

The　grandeur　of　that　thought　struck　her；　a　suspicion　entered　her　mind

that　sacrifice；　immolation　justified　happiness；　the　echo　of　her　own

inward　cry　for　love　came　back　to　her；　she　stood　dumb　in　presence　of

her　wasted　life。　Yes；　for　a　moment　horrible　doubts　possessed　her；　then

she　rose；　grand　and　saintly；　her　head　erect。



〃Love　her　well；　Felix；〃　she　said；　with　tears　in　her　eyes；　〃she　shall

be　my　happy　sister。　I　will　forgive　her　the　harm　she　has　done　me　if　she

gives　you　what　you　could　not　have　here。　You　are　right；　I　have　never

told　you　that　I　loved　you；　and　I　never　have　loved　you　as　the　world

loves。　But　if　she　is　a　mother　how　can　she　love　you　so？〃



〃Dear　saint；〃　I　answered；　〃I　must　be　less　moved　than　I　am　now；　before

I　can　explain　to　you　how　it　is　that　you　soar　victoriously　above　her。

She　is　a　woman　of　earth；　the　daughter　of　decaying　races；　you　are　the

child　of　heaven；　an　angel　worthy　of　worship；　you　have　my　heart；　she　my

flesh　only。　She　knows　this　and　it　fills　her　with　despair；　she　would

change　parts　with　you　even　though　the　cruellest　martyrdom　were　the

price　of　the　change。　But　all　is　irremediable。　To　you　the　soul；　to　you

the　thoughts；　the　love　that　is　pure；　to　you　youth　and　old　age；　to　her

the　desires　and　joys　of　passing　passion；　to　you　remembrance　forever；

to　her　oblivion〃



〃Tell　me；　tell　me　that　again；　oh；　my　friend！〃　she　turned　to　a　bench

and　sat　down；　bursting　into　tears。　〃If　that　be　so；　Felix；　virtue；

purity　of　life；　a　mother's　love；　are　not　mistakes。　Oh；　pour　that　balm

upon　my　wounds！　Repeat　the　words　which　bear　me　back　to　heaven；　where

once　I　longed　to　rise　with　you。　Bless　me　by　a　look；　by　a　sacred　word；

I　forgive　you　for　the　sufferings　you　have　caused　me　the　last　two

months。〃



〃Henriette；　there　are　mysteries　in　the　life　of　men　of　which　you　know

nothing。　I　met　you　at　an　age　when　the　feelings　of　the　heart　stifle　the

desires　implanted　in　our　nature；　but　many　scenes；　the　memory　of　which

will　kindle　my　soul　to　the　hour　of　death；　must　have　told　you　that　this

age　was　drawing　to　a　close；　and　it　was　your　constant　triumph　still　to

prolong　its　mute　delights。　A　love　without　possession　is　maintained　by

the　exasperation　of　desire；　but　there　comes　a　moment　when　all　is

suffering　within　usfor　in　this　we　have　no　resemblance　to　you。　We

possess　a　power　we　cannot　abdicate；　or　we　cease　to　be　men。　Deprived　of

the　nourishment　it　needs；　the　heart　feeds　upon　itself；　feeling　an

exhaustion　which　is　not　death；　but　which　precedes　it。　Nature　cannot

long　be　silenced；　some　trifling　accident　awakens　it　to　a　violence　that

seems　like　madness。　No；　I　have　not　loved；　but　I　have　thirsted　in　the

desert。〃



〃The　desert！〃　she　said