letters of two brides-第21章
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slave he painted himself？ How to be sure？ Or； again； has it ever
entered his head that； if I accept him； I lay myself open to the
shadow of a reproach or am in any sense rewarding or thanking him？ I
am harrowed by the hair…splitting casuistry of the heroines in /Cyrus/
and /Astraea/； by all the subtle arguments of the court of love。
Has he any idea that； in affairs of love； a woman's most trifling
actions are but the issue of long brooding and inner conflicts； of
victories won only to be lost！ What are his thoughts at this moment？
How can I give him my orders to write every evening the particulars of
the day just gone？ He is my slave whom I ought to keep busy。 I shall
deluge him with work！
Sunday Morning。
Only towards morning did I sleep a little。 It is midday now。 I have
just got Griffith to write the following letter：
〃/To the Baron de Macumer/。
〃Mademoiselle de Chaulieu begs me； Monsieur le Baron； to ask you
to return to her the copy of a letter written to her by a friend；
which is in her own handwriting； and which you carried away。
Believe me； etc。；
〃GRIFFITH。〃
My dear； Griffith has gone out； she has gone to the Rue Hillerin…
Bertin； she had handed in this little love…letter for my slave； who
returned to me in an envelope my sweet portrait； stained with tears。
He has obeyed。 Oh！ my sweet； it must have been dear to him！ Another
man would have refused to send it in a letter full of flattery； but
the Saracen has fulfilled his promises。 He has obeyed。 It moves me to
tears。
XVII
THE SAME TO THE SAME
April 2nd。
Yesterday the weather was splendid。 I dressed myself like a girl who
wants to look her best in her sweetheart's eyes。 My father； yielding
to my entreaties； has given me the prettiest turnout in Paristwo
dapple…gray horses and a barouche； which is a masterpiece of elegance。
I was making a first trial of this； and peeped out like a flower from
under my sunshade lined with white silk。
As I drove up the avenue of the Champs…Elysees； I saw my Abencerrage
approaching on an extraordinarily beautiful horse。 Almost every man
nowadays is a finished jockey； and they all stopped to admire and
inspect it。 He bowed to me； and on receiving a friendly sign of
encouragement； slackened his horse's pace so that I was able to say to
him：
〃You are not vexed with me for asking for my letter； it was no use to
you。〃 Then in a lower voice； 〃You have already transcended the ideal。
。 。 。 Your horse makes you an object of general interest；〃 I went on
aloud。
〃My steward in Sardinia sent it to me。 He is very proud of it； for
this horse； which is of Arab blood； was born in my stables。〃
This morning； my dear； Henarez was on an English sorrel； also very
fine； but not such as to attract attention。 My light； mocking words
had done their work。 He bowed to me and I replied with a slight
inclination of the head。
The Duc d'Angouleme has bought Macumer's horse。 My slave understood
that he was deserting the role of simplicity by attracting the notice
of the crowd。 A man ought to be remarked for what he is； not for his
horse； or anything else belonging to him。 To have too beautiful a
horse seems to me a piece of bad taste； just as much as wearing a huge
diamond pin。 I was delighted at being able to find fault with him。
Perhaps there may have been a touch of vanity in what he did； very
excusable in a poor exile； and I like to see this childishness。
Oh！ my dear old preacher； do my love affairs amuse you as much as your
dismal philosophy gives me the creeps？ Dear Philip the Second in
petticoats； are you comfortable in my barouche？ Do you see those
velvet eyes； humble； yet so eloquent； and glorying in their servitude；
which flash on me as some one goes by？ He is a hero； Renee； and he
wears my livery； and always a red camellia in his buttonhole； while I
have always a white one in my hand。
How clear everything becomes in the light of love！ How well I know my
Paris now！ It is all transfused with meaning。 And love here is
lovelier； grander； more bewitching than elsewhere。
I am convinced now that I could never flirt with a fool or make any
impression on him。 It is only men of real distinction who can enter
into our feelings and feel our influence。 Oh！ my poor friend； forgive
me。 I forgot our l'Estorade。 But didn't you tell me you were going to
make a genius of him？ I know what that means。 You will dry nurse him
till some day he is able to understand you。
Good…bye。 I am a little off my head； and must stop。
XVIII
MME。 DE L'ESTORADE TO LOUISE DE CHAULIEU
April。
My angelor ought I not rather to say my imp of evil？you have；
without meaning it； grieved me sorely。 I would say wounded were we not
one soul。 And yet it is possible to wound oneself。
How plain it is that you have never realized the force of the word
/indissoluble/ as applied to the contract binding man and woman！ I
have no wish to controvert what has been laid down by philosophers or
legislatorsthey are quite capable of doing this for themselvesbut；
dear one； in making marriage irrevocable and imposing on it a
relentless formula； which admits of no exceptions； they have rendered
each union a thing as distinct as one individual is from another。 Each
has its own inner laws which differ from those of others。 The laws
regulating married life in the country； for instance； cannot be the
same as those regulating a household in town； where frequent
distractions give variety to life。 Or conversely； married life in
Paris； where existence is one perpetual whirl； must demand different
treatment from the more peaceful home in the provinces。
But if place alters the conditions of marriage； much more does
character。 The wife of a man born to be a leader need only resign
herself to his guidance； whereas the wife of a fool； conscious of
superior power； is bound to take the reins in her own hand if she
would avert calamity。
You speak of vice； and it is possible that； after all； reason and
reflection produce a result not dissimilar from what we call by that
name。 For what does a woman mean by it but perversion of feeling
through calculation？ Passion is vicious when it reasons； admirable
only when it springs from the heart and spends itself in sublime
impulses that set at naught all selfish considerations。 Sooner or
later； dear one； you too will say； 〃Yes！ dissimulation is the
necessary armor of a woman； if by dissimulation be meant courage to
bear in silence； prudence to foresee the future。〃
Every married woman learns to her cost the existence of certain social
laws； which； in many respects； conflict with the laws of nature。
Marrying at our age； it would be possible to have a dozen children。
What is this but another name for a dozen crimes； a dozen misfortunes？
It would be handing over to poverty and despair twelve innocent
darlings； whereas two children would mean the happiness of both； a
double blessing； two lives capable of developing in harmony with the
customs and laws of our time。 The natural law and the code are in
hostility； and we are the battle ground。 Would you give the name of
vice to the prudence of the wife who guards her family from
destruction through its own acts？ One calculation or a thousand； what
matter； if the decision no longer rests with the heart？
And of this terrible calculation you will be guilty some day； my noble
Baronne de Macumer； when you are the proud and happy wife of the man
who adores you； or rather； being a man of sense； he will spare you by
making it himself。 （You see； dear dreamer； that I have studied the
code in its bearings on conjugal relations。） And when at last that day
comes； you will understand that we are answerable only to God and to
ourselves for the means we employ to keep happiness alight in the
heart of our homes。 Far better is the calculation which succeeds in
this than the reckless passion which introduces trouble； heart…
burnings； and dissension。
I have reflected painfully on the duties of a wife and mother of a
family。 Yes； sweet one； it is only by a sublime hypocrisy that we can
attain the noblest ideal of a perfect woman。 You tax me with
insincerity because I dole out to Louis； from da
