Icanrecalltheday，nownearlyfourteenyearsago，whenIembarkedonalifeofself-sacrificewiththedespairofashipwreckedmarinerclingingtothemastofhisvessel；now，asIinvokethememoryofpastyears，IfeelthatIwouldmakethesamechoiceagain。Nootherguidingprincipleissosafe，orleadstosuchrichreward。Thespectacleofyourlife，which，foralltheromanceandpoetrywithwhichyouinvestit，stillremainsbasedonnothingbutaruthlessselfishness，hashelpedtostrengthenmyconvictions。ThisisthelasttimeIshallspeaktoyouinthisway；butIcouldnotrefrainfromoncemorepleadingwithyouwhenIfoundthatyourhappinesshadbeenproofagainstthemostsearchingofalltrials。
AndonemorepointImusturgeonyou，suggestedbymymeditationsonyourretirement。Life，whetherofthebodyortheheart，consistsincertainbalancedmovements。Anyexcessintroducedintotheworkingofthisroutinegivesriseeithertopainortopleasure，bothofwhichareamerefeverofthesoul，boundtobefugitivebecausenatureisnotsoframedastosupportitlong。Buttomakeoflifeonelongexcessissurelytochoosesicknessforone’sportion。Youaresickbecauseyoumaintainatthetemperatureofpassionafeelingwhichmarriageoughttoconvertintoasteadying，purifyinginfluence。
Yes，mysweet，Iseeitclearlynow；thegloryofahomeconsistsinthisverycalm，thisintimacy，thissharingalikeofgoodandevil，whichthevulgarridicule。HownoblewasthereplyoftheDuchessedeSully，thewifeofthegreatSully，tosomeonewhoremarkedthatherhusband，forallhisgraveexterior，didnotscrupletokeepamistress。“Whatofthat？“shesaid。“Irepresentthehonorofthehouse，andshoulddeclinetoplaythepartofacourtesanthere。“
Butyou，Louise，whoarenaturallymorepassionatethantender，wouldbeatoncethewifeandthemistress。WiththesoulofaHeloiseandthepassionsofaSaintTheresa，yousliptheleashonallyourimpulses，solongastheyaresanctionedbylaw；inaword，youdegradethemarriagerite。Surelythetablesareturned。Thereproachesyouonceheapedonmeforimmorally，asyousaid，seizingthemeansofhappinessfromtheveryoutsetofmyweddedlife，mightbedirectedagainstyourselfforgraspingateverythingwhichmayserveyourpassion。What!mustnatureandsocietyalikebeinbondagetoyourcaprice？YouaretheoldLouise；youhaveneveracquiredthequalitieswhichoughttobeawoman’s；self-willedandunreasonableasagirl，youintroducewithalintoyourlovethekeenestandmostmercenaryofcalculations!Areyousurethat，afterall，thepriceyouaskforyourtoiletsisnottoohigh？Alltheseprecautionsaretomymindverysuggestiveofmistrust。
Oh，dearLouise，ifonlyyouknewthesweetnessofamother’seffortstodisciplineherselfinkindnessandgentlenesstoallabouther!Myproud，self-sufficingtempergraduallydissolvedintoasoftmelancholy，whichinturnhasbeenswallowedupbythosedelightsofmotherhoodwhichhavebeenitsreward。Iftheearlyhoursweretoilsome，theeveningwillbetranquilandclear。Mydreadislestthedayofyourlifeshouldtaketheoppositecourse。
WhenIhadreadyourlettertoaclose，IprayedGodtosendyouamongusforaday，thatyoumightseewhatfamilylifereallyis，andlearnthenatureofthosejoys，whicharelastingandsweeterthantonguecantell，becausetheyaregenuine，simple，andnatural。But，alas!
whatchancehaveIwiththebestofargumentsagainstafallacywhichmakesyouhappy？AsIwritethesewords，myeyesfillwithtears。I
hadfeltsosurethatsomemonthsofhoneymoonwouldproveasurfeitandrestoreyoutoreason。ButIseethatthereisnolimittoyourappetite，andthat，havingkilledamanwholovedyou，youwillnotceasetillyouhavekilledloveitself。Farewell，dearmisguidedfriend。IamindespairthattheletterwhichIhopedmightreconcileyoutosocietybyitspictureofmyhappinessshouldhavebroughtforthonlyapaeanofselfishness。Yes，yourloveisselfish；youloveGastonfarlessforhimselfthanforwhatheistoyou……
Renee，calamityhascome——no，thatisnowordforit——ithasburstlikeathunderboltoveryourpoorLouise。Youknowwhatthatmeans；
calamityformeisdoubt；certaintywouldbedeath。
Thedaybeforeyesterday，whenIhadfinishedmyfirsttoilet，I
lookedeverywhereforGastontotakealittleturnwithmebeforelunch，butinvain。Iwenttothestable，andthereIsawhismareallinalather，whilethegroomwasremovingthefoamwithaknifebeforerubbingherdown。
“WhointheworldhasputFedeltainsuchastate？“Iasked。
“Master，“repliedthelad。
IsawthemudofParisonthemare’slegs，forcountrymudisquitedifferent；andatonceitflashedthroughme，“HehasbeentoParis。“
Thisthoughtraisedaswarmofothersinmyheart，anditseemedasthoughallthelifeinmybodyrushedthere。TogotoPariswithouttellingme，atthehourwhenIleavehimalone，tohastenthereandbackatsuchspeedastodistressFedelta。Suspicionclutchedmeinitsirongrip，tillIcouldhardlybreathe。Iwalkedasideafewstepstoaseat，whereItriedtorecovermyself-command。
HereGastonfoundme，apparentlypaleandfluttered，forheimmediatelyexclaimed，“Whatiswrong？“inatoneofsuchalarm，thatIroseandtookhisarm。Butmymusclesrefusedtomove，andIwasforcedtositdownagain。Thenhetookmeinhisarmsandcarriedmetotheparlorcloseby，wherethefrightenedservantspressedafterus，tillGastonmotionedthemaway。Oncelefttoourselves，Irefusedtospeak，butwasabletoreachmyroom，whereIshutmyselfin，toweepmyfill。Gastonremainedsomethingliketwohoursatmydoor，listeningtomysobsandquestioningwithangelicpatiencehispoordarling，whomadenoresponse。
AtlastItoldhimthatIwouldseehimwhenmyeyeswerelessredandmyvoicewassteadyagain。
Myformalwordsdrovehimfromthehouse。ButbythetimeIhadbathedmyeyesinicedwaterandcooledmyface，Ifoundhiminourroom，thedoorintowhichwasopen，thoughIhadheardnosteps。Hebeggedmetotellhimwhatwaswrong。
“Nothing，“Isaid；“IsawthemudofParisonFedelta’stremblinglegs；itseemedstrangethatyoushouldgotherewithouttellingme；
but，ofcourse，youarefree。“
“Ishallpunishyouforsuchwickedthoughtsbynotgivinganyexplanationtillto-morrow，“hereplied。
“Lookatme，“Isaid。
Myeyesmethis；deepansweredtodeep。No，notatraceofthecloudofdisloyaltywhich，risingfromthesoul，mustdimtheclearnessoftheeye。Ifeignedsatisfaction，thoughreallyunconvinced。Itisnotwomenonlywhocanlieanddissemble!
Thewholeofthedaywespenttogether。Everandagain，asIlookedathim，Irealizedhowfastmyheart-stringswereboundtohim。HowI
trembledandflutteredwithinwhen，afteramoment’sabsence，hereappeared。Iliveinhim，notinmyself。Mycruelsufferingsgavethelietoyourunkindletter。DidIeverfeelmylifethusboundupinthenobleSpaniard，whoadoredme，asIadorethisheartlessboy？I
hatethatmare!FoolthatIwastokeephorses!ButthenextthingwouldhavebeentolameGastonorimprisonhiminthecottage。Wildthoughtslikethesefilledmybrain；youseehownearIwastomadness!Iflovebenotthecage，whatpoweronearthcanholdbackthemanwhowantstobefree？
Iaskedhimpoint-blank，“DoIboreyou？“
“Whatneedlesstortureyougiveyourself!“washisreply，whilehelookedatmewithtender，pityingeyes。“NeverhaveIlovedyousodeeply。“
“Ifthatistrue，mybeloved，letmesellFedelta，“Ianswered。
“Sellher，byallmeans!“
Thereplycrushedme。Wasitnotacoverttauntatmywealthandhisownnothingnessinthehouse？Thismayneverhaveoccurredtohim，butIthoughtithad，andoncemoreIlefthim。Itwasnight，andIwouldgotobed。
Oh!Renee，tobealonewithaharrowingthoughtdrivesonetothoughtsofdeath。Thesecharminggardens，thestarrynight，thecoolair，ladenwithincensefromourwealthofflowers，ourvalley，ourhills——
allseemedtomegloomy，black，anddesolate。ItwasasthoughIlayatthefootofaprecipice，surroundedbyserpentsandpoisonousplants，andsawnoGodinthesky。Suchanightagesawoman。
NextmorningIsaid：
“TakeFedeltaandbeofftoParis!Don’tsellher；Iloveher。Doesshenotcarryyou？“
Buthewasnotdeceived；mytonebetrayedthestormoffeelingwhichI
strovetoconceal。
“Trustme!“hereplied；andthegesturewithwhichheheldouthishand，theglanceofhiseye，weresofullofloyaltythatIwasovercome。
“Whatpettycreatureswomenare!“Iexclaimed。
“No，youloveme，thatisall，“hesaid，pressingmetohisheart。
“GotoPariswithoutme，“Isaid，andthistimeImadehimunderstandthatmysuspicionswerelaidaside。
Hewent；Ithoughthewouldhavestayed。Iwon’tattempttotellyouwhatIsuffered。Ifoundasecondselfwithin，quitestrangetome。A
crisislikethishas，forthewomanwholoves，atragicsolemnitythatbaffleswords；thewholeofliferisesbeforeyouthen，andyousearchinvainforanyhorizontoit；theveriesttrifleisbigwithmeaning，aglancecontainsavolume，iciclesdriftonutteredwords，andthedeathsentenceisreadinamovementofthelips。
Ithoughthewouldhavepaidmebackinkind；hadInotbeenmagnanimous？Iclimbedtothetopofthechalet，andmyeyesfollowedhimontheroad。Ah!mydearRenee，hevanishedfrommysightwithanappallingswiftness。
“Howkeenheistogo!“wasthethoughtthatsprangofitself。
Oncemorealone，Ifellbackintothehellofpossibilities，themaelstromofmistrust。ThereweremomentswhenIwouldhavewelcomedanycertainty，eventheworst，asarelieffromthetortureofsuspense。Suspenseisaduelcarriedonintheheart，andwegivenoquartertoourselves。
Ipacedupanddownthewalks。Ireturnedtothehouse，onlytotearoutagain，likeamadwoman。Gaston，wholeftatseveno’clock，didnotreturntilleleven。Now，asitonlytakeshalfanhourtoreachParisthroughtheparkofSt。CloudandtheBoisdeBoulogne，itisplainthathemusthavespentthreehoursintown。Hecamebackradiant，withawhipinhishandforme，anindia-rubberwhipwithagoldhandle。
ForafortnightIhadbeenwithoutawhip，myoldonebeingwornandbroken。
“Wasitforthisyoutorturedme？“Isaid，asIadmiredtheworkmanshipofthisbeautifulornament，whichcontainsalittlescent-
boxatoneend。
Thenitflashedonmethatthepresentwasafreshartifice。
NeverthelessIthrewmyselfatonceonhisneck，notwithoutreproachinghimgentlyforhavingcausedmesomuchpainforthesakeofatrifle。Hewasgreatlypleasedwithhisingenuity；hiseyesandhiswholebearingplainlyshowedtherestrainedtriumphofthesuccessfulplotter；forthereisaradianceofthesoulwhichisreflectedineveryfeatureandturnofthebody。Whilestillexaminingthebeautiesofthisworkofart，Iaskedhimatamomentwhenwehappenedtobelookingeachotherintheface：
“Whoistheartist？“
“Afriendofmine。“
“Ah!IseeithasbeenmountedbyVerdier，“andIreadthenameoftheshopprintedonthehandle。
Gastonisnothingbutachildyet。Heblushed，andImademuchofhimasarewardfortheshamehefeltindeceivingme。Ipretendedtonoticenothing，andhemaywellhavethoughttheincidentwasover。
May25th。
ThenextmorningIwasinmyriding-habitbysixo’clock，andbysevenlandedatVerdier’s，whereseveralwhipsofthesamepatternwereshowntome。OneofthemenservingrecognizedminewhenIpointeditouttohim。
“Wesoldthatyesterdaytoayounggentleman，“hesaid。AndfromthedescriptionIgavehimofmytraitorGaston，notadoubtwasleftofhisidentity。IwillspareyouthepalpitationswhichrentmyheartduringthatjourneytoParisandthelittlescenethere，whichmarkedtheturning-pointofmylife。
Byhalf-sevenIwashomeagain，andGastonfoundme，freshandblooming，inmymorningdress，saunteringaboutwithamake-believenonchalance。IfeltconfidentthatoldPhilippe，whohadbeentakenintomyconfidence，wouldnothavebetrayedmyabsence。
“Gaston，“Isaid，aswewalkedbythesideofthelake，“youcannotblindmetothedifferencebetweenaworkofartinspiredbyfriendshipandsomethingwhichhasbeencastinamould。“