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own little house。 This dwelling； formerly a summer villa； was like a
house of cards； it was not more than thirty feet deep； and about a
hundred feet long。 The garden front； painted in the German fashion；
imitated a trellis with flowers up to the second floor； and was really
a charming example of the Pompadour style； so well called rococo。 A
long avenue of limes led up to it。 The gardens of the pavilion and my
plot of ground were in the shape of a hatchet； of which this avenue
was the handle。 My wall would cut away three…quarters of the hatchet。
〃The Countess was in despair。
〃 'My good Gobain；' said she； 'what sort of man is this florist？'
〃 'On my word；' said the housekeeper； 'I do not know whether it will
be possible to tame him。 He seems to have a horror of women。 He is the
nephew of a Paris cure。 I have seen the uncle but once； a fine old man
of sixty； very ugly； but very amiable。 It is quite possible that this
priest encourages his nephew； as they say in the neighborhood； in his
love of flowers； that nothing worse may happen'
〃 'Whywhat？'
〃 'Well； your neighbor is a little cracked！' said Gobain； tapping her
head！
〃Now a harmless lunatic is the only man whom no woman ever distrusts
in the matter of sentiment。 You will see how wise the Count had been
in choosing this disguise for me。
〃 'What ails him then？' asked the Countess。
〃 'He has studied too hard；' replied Gobain； 'he has turned
misanthropic。 And he has his reasons for disliking womenwell； if you
want to know all that is said about him'
〃 'Well；' said Honorine； 'madmen frighten me less than sane folks； I
will speak to him myself！ Tell him that I beg him to come here。 If I
do not succeed； I will send for the cure。；'
〃The day after this conversation； as I was walking along my graveled
path； I caught sight of the half…opened curtains on the first floor of
the little house； and of a woman's face curiously peeping out。 Madame
Gobain called me。 I hastily glanced at the Countess' house； and by a
rude shrug expressed； 'What do I care for your mistress！'
〃 〃Madame；' said Gobain； called upon to give an account of her errand；
'the madman bid me leave him in peace； saying that even a charcoal
seller is master in his own premises； especially when he has no wife。'
〃 'He is perfectly right；' said the Countess。
〃 'Yes； but he ended by saying； 〃I will go；〃 when I told him that he
would greatly distress a lady living in retirement； who found her
greatest solace in growing flowers。'
〃Next day a signal from Gobain informed me that I was expected。 After
the Countess' breakfast； when she was walking to and fro in front of
her house； I broke out some palings and went towards her。 I had
dressed myself like a countryman； in an old pair of gray flannel
trousers； heavy wooden shoes； and shabby shooting coat； a peaked cap
on my head； a ragged bandana round my neck； hands soiled with mould；
and a dibble in my hand。
〃 'Madame；' said the housekeeper； 'this good man is your neighbor。'
〃The Countess was not alarmed。 I saw at last the woman whom her own
conduct and her husband's confidences had made me so curious to meet。
It was in the early days of May。 The air was pure； the weather serene；
the verdure of the first foliage； the fragrance of spring formed a
setting for this creature of sorrow。 As I then saw Honorine I
understood Octave's passion and the truthfulness of his description；
'A heavenly flower！'
〃Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white
for there are as many tones of white as of red or blue。 On looking at
the Countess； the eye seemed to feel that tender skin； where the blood
flowed in the blue veins。 At the slightest emotion the blood mounted
under the surface in rosy flushes like a cloud。 When we met； the
sunshine； filtering through the light foliage of the acacias； shed on
Honorine the pale gold； ambient glory in which Raphael and Titian；
alone of all painters； have been able to enwrap the Virgin。 Her brown
eyes expressed both tenderness and vivacity； their brightness seemed
reflected in her face through the long downcast lashes。 Merely by
lifting her delicate eyelids； Honorine could cast a spell； there was
so much feeling； dignity； terror； or contempt in her way of raising or
dropping those veils of the soul。 She could freeze or give life by a
look。 Her light…brown hair； carelessly knotted on her head； outlined a
poet's brow； high； powerful； and dreamy。 The mouth was wholly
voluptuous。 And to crown all by a grace； rare in France； though common
in Italy； all the lines and forms of the head had a stamp of nobleness
which would defy the outrages of time。
〃Though slight； Honorine was not thin； and her figure struck me as
being one that might revive love when it believed itself exhausted。
She perfectly represented the idea conveyed by the word /mignonne/；
for she was one of those pliant little women who allow themselves to
be taken up； petted； set down； and taken up again like a kitten。 Her
small feet； as I heard them on the gravel； made a light sound
essentially their own； that harmonized with the rustle of her dress；
producing a feminine music which stamped itself on the heart； and
remained distinct from the footfall of a thousand other women。 Her
gait bore all the quarterings of her race with so much pride； that； in
the street； the least respectful working man would have made way for
her。 Gay and tender； haughty and imposing； it was impossible to
understand her； excepting as gifted with these apparently incompatible
qualities； which； nevertheless； had left her still a child。 But it was
a child who might be as strong as an angel； and； like the angel； once
hurt in her nature； she would be implacable。
〃Coldness on that face must no doubt be death to those on whom her
eyes had smiled； for whom her set lips had parted； for those whose
soul had drunk in the melody of that voice； lending to her words the
poetry of song by its peculiar intonation。 Inhaling the perfume of
violets that accompanied her； I understood how the memory of this wife
had arrested the Count on the threshold of debauchery； and how
impossible it would be ever to forget a creature who really was a
flower to the touch； a flower to the eye； a flower of fragrance； a
heavenly flower to the soul。 。 。 。 Honorine inspired devotion；
chivalrous devotion； regardless of reward。 A man on seeing her must
say to himself：
〃 'Think； and I will divine your thought； speak； and I will obey。 If
my life； sacrificed in torments； can procure you one day's happiness；
take my life； I will smile like a martyr at the stake； for I shall
offer that day to God； as a token to which a father responds on
recognizing a gift to his child。' Many women study their expression；
and succeed in producing effects similar to those which would have
struck you at first sight of the Countess； only； in her； it was all
the outcome of a delightful nature； that inimitable nature went at
once to the heart。 If I tell you all this； it is because her soul； her
thoughts； the exquisiteness of her heart； are all we are concerned
with； and you would have blamed me if I had not sketched them for you。
〃I was very n