a woman of thirty-第48章
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less dreadful to her than the fear of receiving yet again one of those thrusts that went to her very heartbefore that fear her courage ebbed away。 Her mother's love had come to this。 To love her child； to be afraid of her； to shrink from the thought of the stab； yet to go forward。 So great is a mother's affection in a loving nature； that before it can fade away into indifference the mother herself must die or find support in some great power without her； in religion or another love。 Since the Marquise rose that morning； her fatal memory had called up before her some of those things； so slight to all appearance； that make landmarks in a life。 Sometimes； indeed； a whole tragedy grows out of a single gesture； the tone in which a few words were spoken rends a whole life in two； a glance into indifferent eyes is the deathblow of the gladdest love； and； unhappily； such gestures and such words were only too familiar to Mme。 d'Aiglemontshe had met so many glances that wound the soul。 No； there was nothing in those memories to bid her hope。 On the contrary； everything went to show that Alfred had destroyed her hold on her daughter's heart； that the thought of her was now associated with dutynot with gladness。 In ways innumerable； in things that were mere trifles in themselves； the Countess' detestable conduct rose up before her mother； and the Marquise； it may be； looked on Moina's undutifulness as a punishment； and found excuses for her daughter in the will of Heaven； that so she still might adore the hand that smote her。
All these things passed through her memory that morning； and each recollection wounded her afresh so sorely； that with a very little additional pain her brimming cup of bitterness must have overflowed。 A cold look might kill her。
The little details of domestic life are difficult to paint； but one or two perhaps will suffice to give an idea of the rest。
The Marquise d'Aiglemont； for instance； had grown rather deaf； but she could never induce Moina to raise her voice for her。 Once； with the naivete of suffering； she had begged Moina to repeat some remark which she had failed to catch； and Moina obeyed； but with so bad a grace； the Mme。 d'Aiglemont had never permitted herself to make her modest request again。 Ever since that day when Moina was talking or retailing a piece of news； her mother was careful to come near to listen； but this infirmity of deafness appeared to put the Countess out of patience； and she would grumble thoughtlessly about it。 This instance is one from among very many that must have gone to the mother's heart； and yet nearly all of them might have escaped a close observer； they consisted in faint shades of manner invisible to any but a woman's eyes。 Take another example。 Mme。 d'Aiglemont happened to say one day that the Princesse de Cadignan had called upon her。 〃Did she come to see /you/！〃 Moina exclaimed。 That was all； but the Countess' voice and manner expressed surprise and well…bred contempt in semitones。 Any heart； still young and sensitive； might well have applauded the philanthropy of savage tribes who kill off their old people when they grow too feeble to cling to a strongly shaken bough。 Mme。 d'Aiglemont rose smiling； and went away to weep alone。
Well…bred people； and women especially； only betray their feelings by imperceptible touches； but those who can look back over their own experience on such bruises as this mother's heart received； know also how the heart…strings vibrate to these light touches。 Overcome by her memories； Mme。 d'Aiglemont recollected one of those microscopically small things； so stinging and so painful was it that never till this moment had she felt all the heartless contempt that lurked beneath smiles。
At the sound of shutters thrown back at her daughter's windows； she dried her tears； and hastened up the pathway by the railings。 As she went； it struck her that the gardener had been unusually careful to rake the sand along the walk which had been neglected for some little time。 As she stood under her daughter's windows； the shutters were hastily closed。
〃Moina； is it you？〃 she asked。
No answer。
The Marquise went on into the house。
〃Mme。 la Comtesse is in the little drawing…room；〃 said the maid； when the Marquise asked whether Mme。 de Saint…Hereen had finished dressing。
Mme。 d'Aiglemont hurried to the little drawing…room； her heart was too full； her brain too busy to notice matters so slight； but there on the sofa sat the Countess in her loose morning…gown； her hair in disorder under the cap tossed carelessly on he head； her feet thrust into slippers。 The key of her bedroom hung at her girdle。 Her face； aglow with color； bore traces of almost stormy thought。
〃What makes people come in！〃 she cried； crossly。 〃Oh！ it is you； mother；〃 she interrupted herself； with a preoccupied look。
〃Yes； child； it is your mother〃
Something in her tone turned those words into an outpouring of the heart； the cry of some deep inward feeling； only to be described by the word 〃holy。〃 So thoroughly in truth had she rehabilitated the sacred character of a mother； that her daughter was impressed； and turned towards her； with something of awe； uneasiness； and remorse in her manner。 The room was the furthest of a suite； and safe from indiscreet intrusion； for no one could enter it without giving warning of approach through the previous apartments。 The Marquise closed the door。
〃It is my duty； my child； to warn you in one of the most serious crises in the lives of us women； you have perhaps reached it unconsciously； and I am come to speak to you as a friend rather than as a mother。 When you married； you acquired freedom of action； you are only accountable to your husband now； but I asserted my authority so little （perhaps I was wrong）； that I think I have a right to expect you to listen to me； for once at least； in a critical position when you must need counsel。 Bear in mind； Moina that you are married to a man of high ability； a man of whom you may well be proud； a man who〃
〃I know what you are going to say； mother！〃 Moina broke in pettishly。 〃I am to be lectured about Alfred〃
〃Moina；〃 the Marquise said gravely； as she struggled with her tears； 〃you would not guess at once if you did not feel〃
〃What？〃 asked Moina； almost haughtily。 〃Why； really； mother〃
Mme。 d'Aiglemont summoned up all her strength。 〃Moina；〃 she said； 〃you must attend carefully to this that I ought to tell you〃
〃I am attending；〃 returned the Countess； folding her arms； and affecting insolent submission。 〃Permit me； mother； to ring for Pauline；〃 she added with incredible self…possession； 〃I will send her away first。〃
She rang the bell。
〃My dear child； Pauline cannot possibly hear〃
〃Mamma；〃 interrupted the Countess； with a gravity which must have struck her mother as something unusual； 〃I must〃
She stopped short； for the woman was in the room。
〃Pauline； go /yourself/ to Baudran's； and ask why my hat has not yet been sent。〃
Then the Countess reseated herself and scrutinized her mother。 The Marquise； with a swelling heart and dry eyes； in painful agitation； which none but a mother can fully understand； began to open Moina's eyes to the risk that she was running。 But either the Countess felt hurt and indignant at her mother's suspicions of a son of the Marquis de Vandenesse； or she was seized with a sudden fit of inexplicable levity caused by the inexperience of youth。 She took advantage of a pause。
〃Mamma； I thought you were only jealous of /the father/〃 she said； with a forced laugh。
Mme。 d'Aiglemont shut her eyes and bent her head at the words； with a very faint； almost inaudible sigh。 She looked up and out into space； as if she felt the common overmastering impulse to appeal to God at the great crises of our lives； then she looked at her daughter； and her eyes were full of awful majesty and the expression of profound sorrow。
〃My child；〃 she said； and her voice was hardly recognizable； 〃you have been less merciful to your mother than he against whom she sinned； less merciful than perhaps God Himself will be！〃
Mme。 d'Aiglemont rose； at the door she turned； but she saw nothing but surprise in her daughter's face。 She went out。 Scarcely had she reached the
