a woman of thirty-第7章
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art。 The Countess was one of those women who seem born to be loved and to bring happiness with them。 Mme。 de Listomere found her niece's society grown so sweet and precious； that she doted upon Julie； and could no longer think of parting with her。 A month sufficed to establish an eternal friendship between the two ladies。 The dowager noticed； not without surprise； the changes that took place in Mme。 d'Aiglemont； gradually her bright color died away； and her face became dead white。 Yet； Julie's spirits rose as the bloom faded from her cheeks。 Sometimes the dowager's sallies provoked outbursts of merriment or peals of laughter； promptly repressed； however； by some clamorous thought。
Mme。 de Listomere had guessed by this time that it was neither Victor's absence nor a father's death which threw a shadow over her niece's life； but her mind was so full of dark suspicions； that she found it difficult to lay a finger upon the real cause of the mischief。 Possibly truth is only discoverable by chance。 A day came； however； at length when Julie flashed out before her aunt's astonished eyes into a complete forgetfulness of her marriage； she recovered the wild spirits of careless girlhood。 Mme。 de Listomere then and there made up her mind to fathom the depths of this soul； for its exceeding simplicity was as inscrutable as dissimulation。
Night was falling。 The two ladies were sitting by the window which looked out upon the street； and Julie was looking thoughtful again； when some one went by on horseback。
〃There goes one of your victims；〃 said the Marquise。
Mme。 d'Aiglemont looked up； dismay and surprise blended in her face。
〃He is a young Englishman； the Honorable Arthur Ormand； Lord Grenville's eldest son。 His history is interesting。 His physician sent him to Montpellier in 1802； it was hoped that in that climate he might recover from the lung complaint which was gaining ground。 He was detained； like all his fellow…countrymen； by Bonaparte when war broke out。 That monster cannot live without fighting。 The young Englishman； by way of amusing himself； took to studying his own complaint； which was believed to be incurable。 By degrees he acquired a liking for anatomy and physic； and took quite a craze for that kind of thing； a most extraordinary taste in a man of quality； though the Regent certainly amused himself with chemistry！ In short； Monsieur Arthur made astonishing progress in his studies； his health did the same under the faculty of Montpellier； he consoled his captivity； and at the same time his cure was thoroughly completed。 They say that he spent two whole years in a cowshed； living on cresses and the milk of a cow brought from Switzerland； breathing as seldom as he could； and never speaking a word。 Since he come to Tours he has lived quite alone； he is as proud as a peacock； but you have certainly made a conquest of him； for probably it is not on my account that he has ridden under the window twice every day since you have been here。He has certainly fallen in love with you。〃
That last phrase roused the Countess like magic。 Her involuntary start and smile took the Marquise by surprise。 So far from showing a sign of the instinctive satisfaction felt by the most strait…laced of women when she learns that she has destroyed the peace of mind of some male victim； there was a hard； haggard expression in Julie's facea look of repulsion amounting almost to loathing。
A woman who loves will put the whole world under the ban of Love's empire for the sake of the one whom she loves； but such a woman can laugh and jest； and Julie at that moment looked as if the memory of some recently escaped peril was too sharp and fresh not to bring with it a quick sensation of pain。 Her aunt； by this time convinced that Julie did not love her nephew； was stupefied by the discovery that she loved nobody else。 She shuddered lest a further discovery should show her Julie's heart disenchanted； lest the experience of a day； or perhaps of a night； should have revealed to a young wife the full extent of Victor's emptiness。
〃If she has found him out； there is an end of it；〃 thought the dowager。 〃My nephew will soon be made to feel the inconveniences of wedded life。〃
The Marquise now proposed to convert Julie to the monarchical doctrines of the times of Louis Quinze； but a few hours later she discovered； or； more properly speaking； guessed； the not uncommon state of affairs； and the real cause of her niece's low spirits。
Julie turned thoughtful on a sudden； and went to her room earlier than usual。 When her maid left her for the night； she still sat by the fire in the yellow velvet depths of a great chair； an old…world piece of furniture as well suited for sorrow as for happy people。 Tears flowed； followed by sighs and meditation。 After a while she drew a little table to her； sought writing materials； and began to write。 The hours went by swiftly。 Julie's confidences made to the sheet of paper seemed to cost her dear； every sentence set her dreaming； and at last she suddenly burst into tears。 The clocks were striking two。 Her head； grown heavy as a dying woman's； was bowed over her breast。 When she raised it； her aunt appeared before her as suddenly as if she had stepped out of the background of tapestry upon the walls。
〃What can be the matter with you； child？〃 asked the Marquise。 〃Why are you sitting up so late？ And why； in the first place； are you crying alone； at your age？〃
Without further ceremony she sat down beside her niece； her eyes the while devouring the unfinished letter。
〃Were you writing to your husband？〃
〃Do I know where he is？〃 returned the Countess。
Her aunt thereupon took up the sheet and proceeded to read it。 She had brought her spectacles； the deed was premeditated。 The innocent writer of the letter allowed her to take it without the slightest remark。 It was neither lack of dignity nor consciousness of secret guilt which left her thus without energy。 Her aunt had come in upon her at a crisis。 She was helpless； right or wrong； reticence and confidence； like all things else； were matters of indifference。 Like some young maid who had heaped scorn upon her lover； and feels so lonely and sad when evening comes； that she longs for him to come back or for a heart to which she can pour out her sorrow； Julie allowed her aunt to violate the seal which honor places upon an open letter； and sat musing while the Marquise read on：
〃MY DEAR LOUISA；Why do you ask so often for the fulfilment of as rash a promise as two young and inexperienced girls could make？ You say that you often ask yourself why I have given no answer to your questions for these six months。 If my silence told you nothing； perhaps you will understand the reasons for it to…day； as you read the secrets which I am about to betray。 I should have buried them for ever in the depths of my heart if you had not announced your own approaching marriage。 You are about to be married； Louisa。 The thought makes me shiver。 Poor little one！ marry； yes； in a few months' time one of the keenest pangs of regret will be the recollection of a self which used to be； of the two young girls who sat one evening under one of the tallest oak… trees on the hillside at Ecouen； and looked along the fair valley at our feet in the light of the sunset； which caught us in its glow。 We sat on a slab of rock in ecstasy； which sobered down into melancholy of the gentlest。 You were the first to discover that the far…off sun spoke to us of the future。 How inquisitive and how silly we were！ Do you remember all the absurd things we said and did？ We embraced each other； 'like lovers；' said we。 We solemnly promised that the first bride should faithfully reveal to the other the mysteries of marriage； the joys which our childish minds imagined to be so delicious。 That evening will complete your despair； Louisa。 In those days you were young and beautiful and careless； if not radiantly happy； a few days of marriage； and you will be； what I am alreadyugly； wretched； and old。 Need I tell you how proud I was and how vain and glad to be married to Colonel Victor d'Aiglemont？ And besides； how could I tell you now？ for I cannot remember that old self。 A f
