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against the back of an arm…chair。 Tears were on his cheeks。 The poor
woman threw herself hastily from her bed and sprang at a bound to her
husband's knees。
〃Jules！ what is it？ Are you ill？ Speak； tell me！ Speak to me； if you
love me！〃 and she poured out a hundred words expressing the deepest
tenderness。
Jules knelt at her feet； kissed her hands and knees； and answered with
fresh tears：
〃Dear Clemence； I am most unhappy！ It is not loving to distrust the
one we love。 I adore you and suspect you。 The words that man said to
me to…night have struck to my heart； they stay there in spite of
myself； and confound me。 There is some mystery here。 In short； and I
blush to say it； your explanations do not satisfy me。 My reason casts
gleams into my soul which my love rejects。 It is an awful combat。
Could I stay there； holding your head； and suspecting thoughts within
it to me unknown？ Oh！ I believe in you； I believe in you！〃 he cried；
seeing her smile sadly and open her mouth as if to speak。 〃Say
nothing； do not reproach me。 Besides； could you say anything I have
not said myself for the last three hours？ Yes； for three hours； I have
been here； watching you as you slept； so beautiful！ admiring that
pure； peaceful brow。 Yes； yes！ you have always told me your thoughts；
have you not？ I alone am in that soul。 While I look at you； while my
eyes can plunge into yours I see all plainly。 Your life is as pure as
your glance is clear。 No； there is no secret behind those transparent
eyes。〃 He rose and kissed their lids。 〃Let me avow to you； dearest
soul；〃 he said； 〃that for the last five years each day has increased
my happiness； through the knowledge that you are all mine； and that no
natural affection even can take any of your love。 Having no sister； no
father； no mother； no companion； I am neither above nor below any
living being in your heart； I am alone there。 Clemence； repeat to me
those sweet things of the spirit you have so often said to me； do not
blame me； comfort me； I am so unhappy。 I have an odious suspicion on
my conscience； and you have nothing in your heart to sear it。 My
beloved； tell me； could I stay there beside you？ Could two heads
united as ours have been lie on the same pillow when one was suffering
and the other tranquil？ What are you thinking of？〃 he cried abruptly；
observing that Clemence was anxious； confused； and seemed unable to
restrain her tears。
〃I am thinking of my mother；〃 she answered； in a grave voice。 〃You
will never know； Jules； what I suffer in remembering my mother's dying
farewell； said in a voice sweeter than all music； and in feeling the
solemn touch of her icy hand at a moment when you overwhelm me with
those assurances of your precious love。〃
She raised her husband； strained him to her with a nervous force
greater than that of men； and kissed his hair； covering it with tears。
〃Ah！ I would be hacked in pieces for you！ Tell me that I make you
happy； that I am to you the most beautiful of womena thousand women
to you。 Oh！ you are loved as no other man ever was or will be。 I don't
know the meaning of those words 'duty；' 'virtue。' Jules； I love you
for yourself； I am happy in loving you； I shall love you more and more
to my dying day。 I have pride in my love； I feel it is my destiny to
have one sole emotion in my life。 What I shall tell you now is
dreadful； I knowbut I am glad to have no child； I do not wish for
any。 I feel I am more wife than mother。 Well； then； can you fear？
Listen to me； my own beloved； promise to forget； not this hour of
mingled tenderness and doubt； but the words of that madman。 Jules； you
/must/。 Promise me not to see him； not to go to him。 I have a deep
conviction that if you set one foot in that maze we shall both roll
down a precipice where I shall perishbut with your name upon my
lips； your heart in my heart。 Why hold me so high in that heart and
yet so low in reality？ What！ you who give credit to so many as to
money； can you not give me the charity of faith？ And on the first
occasion in our lives when you might prove to me your boundless trust；
do you cast me from my throne in your heart？ Between a madman and me；
it is the madman whom you choose to believe？ oh； Jules！〃 She stopped；
threw back the hair that fell about her brow and neck； and then； in a
heart…rending tone； she added： 〃I have said too much； one word should
suffice。 If your soul and your forehead still keep this cloud； however
light it be； I tell you now that I shall die of it。〃
She could not repress a shudder； and turned pale。
〃Oh！ I will kill that man；〃 thought Jules； as he lifted his wife in
his arms and carried her to her bed。
〃Let us sleep in peace； my angel；〃 he said。 〃I have forgotten all； I
swear it！〃
Clemence fell asleep to the music of those sweet words； softly
repeated。 Jules； as he watched her sleeping； said in his heart：
〃She is right； when love is so pure； suspicion blights it。 To that
young soul； that tender flower； a blightyes； a blight means death。〃
When a cloud comes between two beings filled with affection for each
other and whose lives are in absolute unison； that cloud； though it
may disperse； leaves in those souls a trace of its passage。 Either
love gains a stronger life； as the earth after rain； or the shock
still echoes like distant thunder through a cloudless sky。 It is
impossible to recover absolutely the former life； love will either
increase or diminish。
At breakfast； Monsieur and Madame Jules showed to each other those
particular attentions in which there is always something of
affectation。 There were glances of forced gaiety； which seemed the
efforts of persons endeavoring to deceive themselves。 Jules had
involuntary doubts； his wife had positive fears。 Still； sure of each
other； they had slept。 Was this strained condition the effect of a
want of faith； or was it only a memory of their nocturnal scene？ They
did not know themselves。 But they loved each other so purely that the
impression of that scene； both cruel and beneficent； could not fail to
leave its traces in their souls； both were eager to make those traces
disappear； each striving to be the first to return to the other； and
thus they could not fail to think of the cause of their first
variance。 To loving souls； this is not grief； pain is still far…off；
but it is a sort of mourning； which is difficult to depict。 If there
are； indeed； relations between colors and the emotions of the soul；
if； as Locke's blind man said； scarlet produces on the sight the
effect produced upon the hearing by a blast of trumpets； it is
permissible to compare this reaction of melancholy to mourning tones
of gray。
But even so； love saddened； love in which remains a true sentiment of
its happiness； momentarily troubled though it be； gives enjoyments
derived from pain and pleasure both； which are all novel。 Jules
studied his wife's voice； he watched her glances with the freshness of
feeling that inspired him in the earliest days of his passion for her。
The memory of five absolutely happy years； her beauty； the candor of
her love； quickly effaced in her husband's mind the last vestiges of
an intolerable pain。
The day was Sunday；a