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comprehended； both of them； the bitter thoughts those tears contained。
But they were silent： of what good were reproaches now； why look for
consolations？ The deeper they were； the more they enlarged the wound。
One evening； Juana； stupid with grief； heard through the open door of
her little room； which the old couple had thought shut； a pitying moan
from her adopted mother。
〃The child will die of grief。〃
〃Yes；〃 said Perez； in a shaking voice； 〃but what can we do？ I cannot
now boast of her beauty and her chastity to Comte d'Arcos； to whom I
hoped to marry her。〃
〃But a single fault is not vice；〃 said the old woman； pitying as the
angels。
〃Her mother gave her to this man；〃 said Perez。
〃Yes； in a moment； without consulting the poor child！〃 cried Dona
Lagounia。
〃She knew what she was doing。〃
〃But oh！ into what hands our pearl is going！〃
〃Say no more； or I shall seek a quarrel with that Diard。〃
〃And that would only lead to other miseries。〃
Hearing these dreadful words Juana saw the happy future she had lost
by her own wrongdoing。 The pure and simple years of her quiet life
would have been rewarded by a brilliant existence such as she had
fondly dreamed；dreams which had caused her ruin。 To fall from the
height of Greatness to Monsieur Diard！ She wept。 At times she went
nearly mad。 She floated for a while between vice and religion。 Vice
was a speedy solution； religion a lifetime of suffering。 The
meditation was stormy and solemn。 The next day was the fatal day； the
day for the marriage。 But Juana could still remain free。 Free； she
knew how far her misery would go； married； she was ignorant of where
it went or what it might bring her。
Religion triumphed。 Dona Lagounia stayed beside her child and prayed
and watched as she would have prayed and watched beside the dying。
〃God wills it；〃 she said to Juana。
Nature gives to woman alternately a strength which enables her to
suffer and a weakness which leads her to resignation。 Juana resigned
herself； and without restriction。 She determined to obey her mother's
prayer； and cross the desert of life to reach God's heaven； knowing
well that no flowers grew for her along the way of that painful
journey。
She married Diard。 As for the quartermaster； though he had no grace in
Juana's eyes； we may well absolve him。 He loved her distractedly。 The
Marana； so keen to know the signs of love； had recognized in that man
the accents of passion and the brusque nature； the generous impulses；
that are common to Southerners。 In the paroxysm of her anger and her
distress she had thought such qualities enough for her daughter's
happiness。
The first days of this marriage were apparently happy； or； to express
one of those latent facts； the miseries of which are buried by women
in the depths of their souls； Juana would not cast down her husband's
joy；a double role； dreadful to play； but to which； sooner or later；
all women unhappily married come。 This is a history impossible to
recount in its full truth。 Juana； struggling hourly against her
nature； a nature both Spanish and Italian； having dried up the source
of her tears by dint of weeping； was a human type； destined to
represent woman's misery in its utmost expression； namely； sorrow
undyingly active； the description of which would need such minute
observations that to persons eager for dramatic emotions they would
seem insipid。 This analysis； in which every wife would find some one
of her own sufferings； would require a volume to express them all； a
fruitless； hopeless volume by its very nature； the merit of which
would consist in faintest tints and delicate shadings which critics
would declare to be effeminate and diffuse。 Besides； what man could
rightly approach； unless he bore another heart within his heart； those
solemn and touching elegies which certain women carry with them to
their tomb； melancholies； misunderstood even by those who cause them；
sighs unheeded； devotions unrewarded；on earth at least；splendid
silences misconstrued； vengeances withheld； disdained； generosities
perpetually bestowed and wasted； pleasures longed for and denied；
angelic charities secretly accomplished；in short； all the religions
of womanhood and its inextinguishable love。
Juana knew that life； fate spared her nought。 She was wholly a wife；
but a sorrowful and suffering wife； a wife incessantly wounded； yet
forgiving always； a wife pure as a flawless diamond；she who had the
beauty and the glow of the diamond； and in that beauty； that glow； a
vengeance in her hand； for she was certainly not a woman to fear the
dagger added to her 〃dot。〃
At first； inspired by a real love； by one of those passions which for
the time being change even odious characters and bring to light all
that may be noble in a soul； Diard behaved like a man of honor。 He
forced Montefiore to leave the regiment and even the army corps； so
that his wife might never meet him during the time they remained in
Spain。 Next； he petitioned for his own removal； and succeeded in
entering the Imperial Guard。 He desired at any price to obtain a
title； honors； and consideration in keeping with his present wealth。
With this idea in his mind； he behaved courageously in one of the most
bloody battles in Germany； but； unfortunately； he was too severely
wounded to remain in the service。 Threatened with the loss of a leg；
he was forced to retire on a pension； without the title of baron；
without those rewards he hoped to win； and would have won had he not
been Diard。
This event； this wound； and his thwarted hopes contributed to change
his character。 His Provencal energy； roused for a time； sank down。 At
first he was sustained by his wife； in whom his efforts； his courage；
his ambition had induced some belief in his nature； and who showed
herself； what women are； tender and consoling in the troubles of life。
Inspired by a few words from Juana； the retired soldier came to Paris；
resolved to win in an administrative career a position to command
respect； bury in oblivion the quartermaster of the 6th of the line；
and secure for Madame Diard a noble title。 His passion for that
seductive creature enabled him to divine her most secret wishes。 Juana
expressed nothing； but he understood her。 He was not loved as a lover
dreams of being loved； he knew this； and he strove to make himself
respected； loved； and cherished。 He foresaw a coming happiness； poor
man； in the patience and gentleness shown on all occasions by his
wife； but that patience； that gentleness； were only the outward signs
of the resignation which had made her his wife。 Resignation； religion；
were they love？ Often Diard wished for refusal where he met with
chaste obedience； often he would have given his eternal life that
Juana might have wept upon his bosom and not disguised her secret
thoughts behind a smiling face which lied to him nobly。 Many young men
for after a certain age men no lo