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Still； I was her guest。
〃But about your horse？ why isn't he attended to？〃 said the count。
〃You see I am wrong if I think of him； and wrong if I do not；〃
remarked the countess。
〃Well； yes；〃 said her husband； 〃there is a time to do things； and a
time not to do them。〃
〃I will attend to him；〃 I said； finding this sort of greeting
intolerable。 〃No one but myself can put him into his stall； my groom
is coming by the coach from Chinon； he will rub him down。〃
〃I suppose your groom is from England；〃 she said。
〃That is where they all come from；〃 remarked the count； who grew
cheerful in proportion as his wife seemed depressed。 Her coldness gave
him an opportunity to oppose her； and he overwhelmed me with
friendliness。
〃My dear Felix；〃 he said； taking my hand； and pressing it
affectionately； 〃pray forgive Madame de Mortsauf； women are so
whimsical。 But it is owing to their weakness； they cannot have the
evenness of temper we owe to our strength of character。 She really
loves you； I know it； only〃
While the count was speaking Madame de Mortsauf gradually moved away
from us so as to leave us alone。
〃Felix；〃 said the count； in a low voice； looking at his wife； who was
now going up to the house with her two children； 〃I don't know what is
going on in Madame de Mortsauf's mind； but for the last six weeks her
disposition has completely changed。 She； so gentle； so devoted
hitherto； is now extraordinarily peevish。〃
Manette told me later that the countess had fallen into a state of
depression which made her indifferent to the count's provocations。 No
longer finding a soft substance in which he could plant his arrows；
the man became as uneasy as a child when the poor insect it is
tormenting ceases to move。 He now needed a confidant； as the hangman
needs a helper。
〃Try to question Madame de Mortsauf；〃 he said after a pause； 〃and find
out what is the matter。 A woman always has secrets from her husband；
but perhaps she will tell you what troubles her。 I would sacrifice
everything to make her happy； even to half my remaining days or half
my fortune。 She is necessary to my very life。 If I have not that angel
at my side as I grow old I shall be the most wretched of men。 I do
desire to die easy。 Tell her I shall not be here long to trouble her。
Yes； Felix； my poor friend； I am going fast； I know it。 I hide the
fatal truth from every one； why should I worry them beforehand？ The
trouble is in the orifice of the stomach； my friend。 I have at last
discovered the true cause of this disease； it is my sensibility that
is killing me。 Indeed； all our feelings affect the gastric centre。〃
〃Then do you mean；〃 I said； smiling； 〃that the best…hearted people die
of their stomachs？〃
〃Don't laugh； Felix； nothing is more absolutely true。 Too keen a
sensibility increases the play of the sympathetic nerve； these
excitements of feeling keep the mucous membrane of the stomach in a
state of constant irritation。 If this state continues it deranges； at
first insensibly； the digestive functions； the secretions change； the
appetite is impaired； and the digestion becomes capricious； sharp
pains are felt； they grow worse day by day； and more frequent； then
the disorder comes to a crisis； as if a slow poison were passing the
alimentary canal； the mucous membrane thickens； the valve of the
pylorus becomes indurated and forms a scirrhus； of which the patient
dies。 Well； I have reached that point； my dear friend。 The induration
is proceeding and nothing checks it。 Just look at my yellow skin； my
feverish eyes； my excessive thinness。 I am withering away。 But what is
to be done？ I brought the seeds of the disease home with me from the
emigration； heaven knows what I suffered then！ My marriage； which
might have repaired the wrong； far from soothing my ulcerated mind
increased the wound。 What did I find？ ceaseless fears for the
children； domestic jars； a fortune to remake； economies which required
great privations； which I was obliged to impose upon my wife； but
which I was the one to suffer from； and then；I can tell this to none
but you； Felix；I have a worse trouble yet。 Though Blanche is an
angel； she does not understand me； she knows nothing of my sufferings
and she aggravates them； but I forgive her。 It is a dreadful thing to
say； my friend； but a less virtuous woman might have made me more
happy by lending herself to consolations which Blanche never thinks
of； for she is as silly as a child。 Moreover my servants torment me；
blockheads who take my French for Greek！ When our fortune was finally
remade inch by inch； and I had some relief from care； it was too late；
the harm was done； I had reached the period when the appetite is
vitiated。 Then came my severe illness； so ill…managed by Origet。 In
short； I have not six months to live。〃
I listened to the count in terror。 On meeting the countess I had been
struck with her yellow skin and the feverish brilliancy of her eyes。 I
led the count towards the house while seeming to listen to his
complaints and his medical dissertations； but my thoughts were all
with Henriette； and I wanted to observe her。 We found her in the
salon； where she was listening to a lesson in mathematics which the
Abbe Dominis was giving Jacques； and at the same time showing
Madeleine a stitch of embroidery。 Formerly she would have laid aside
every occupation the day of my arrival to be with me。 But my love was
so deeply real that I drove back into my heart the grief I felt at
this contrast between the past and the present； and thought only of
the fatal yellow tint on that celestial face； which resembled the halo
of divine light Italian painters put around the faces of their saints。
I felt the icy wind of death pass over me。 Then when the fire of her
eyes； no longer softened by the liquid light in which in former times
they moved； fell upon me； I shuddered； I noticed several changes；
caused by grief； which I had not seen in the open air。 The slender
lines which； at my last visit； were so lightly marked upon her
forehead had deepened； her temples with their violet veins seemed
burning and concave； her eyes were sunk beneath the brows； their
circles browned；alas！ she was discolored like a fruit when decay is
beginning to show upon the surface； or a worm is at the core。 I； whose
whole ambition had been to pour happiness into her soul； I it was who
embittered the spring from which she had hoped to refresh her life and
renew her courage。 I took a seat beside her and said in a voice filled
with tears of repentance； 〃Are you satisfied with your own health？〃
〃Yes；〃 she answered； plunging her eyes into mine。 〃My health is
there；〃 she added； motioning to Jacques and Madeleine。
The latter； just fifteen； had come victoriously out of her struggle
with anaemia； and was now a woman。 She had grown tall； the Bengal
roses were blooming in her once sallow cheeks。 She had lost the
unconcern of a child who looks eve