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Countess had gone to bed at six； worn out with fatigue； and that；
having taken a soothing draught prepared by the chemist； she had now
fallen asleep。
〃This is her letter； of which I kept a copyfor you； mademoiselle；〃
said the Consul； addressing Camille； 〃know all the resources of art；
the tricks of style； and the efforts made in their compositions by
writers who do not lack skill； but you will acknowledge that
literature could never find such language in its assumed pathos； there
is nothing so terrible as truth。 Here is the letter written by this
woman； or rather by this anguish：
〃 'MONSIEUR MAURICE；
〃 'I know all your uncle would say to me； he is not better informed
than my own conscience。 Conscience is the interpreter of God to man。 I
know that if I am not reconciled to Octave； I shall be damned； that is
the sentence of religious law。 Civil law condemns me to obey； cost
what it may。 If my husband does not reject me； the world will regard
me as pure； as virtuous； whatever I may have done。 Yes； that much is
sublime in marriage； society ratifies the husband's forgiveness； but
it forgets that the forgiveness must be accepted。 Legally；
religiously； and from the world's point of view I ought to go back to
Octave。 Keeping only to the human aspect of the question； is it not
cruel to refuse him happiness； to deprive him of children； to wipe his
name out of the Golden Book and the list of peers？ My sufferings； my
repugnance； my feelings； all my egoismfor I know that I am an egoist
ought to be sacrificed to the family。 I shall be a mother； the
caresses of my child will wipe away many tears！ I shall be very happy；
I certainly shall be much looked up to。 I shall ride； haughty and
wealthy； in a handsome carriage！ I shall have servants and a fine
house； and be the queen of as many parties as there are weeks in the
year。 The world will receive me handsomely。 I shall not have to climb
up again to the heaven of aristocracy； I shall never have come down
from it。 So God； the law； society are all in accord。
〃 ' 〃What are you rebelling against？〃 I am asked from the height of
heaven； from the pulpit； from the judge's bench； and from the throne；
whose august intervention may at need be invoked by the Count。 Your
uncle； indeed； at need； would speak to me of a certain celestial grace
which will flood my heart when I know the pleasure of doing my duty。
〃 'God； the law； the world； and Octave all wish me to live； no doubt。
Well； if there is no other difficulty； my reply cuts the knot： I will
not live。 I will become white and innocent again； for I will lie in my
shroud； white with the blameless pallor of death。 This is not in the
least 〃mulish obstinacy。〃 That mulish obstinacy of which you jestingly
accused me is in a woman the result of confidence； of a vision of the
future。 Though my husband； sublimely generous； may forget all； I shall
not forget。 Does forgetfulness depend on our will？ When a widow
re…marries； love makes a girl of her； she marries a man she loves。 But
I cannot love the Count。 It all lies in that； do not you see？
〃 'Every time my eyes met his I should see my sin in them； even when
his were full of love。 The greatness of his generosity would be the
measure of the greatness of my crime。 My eyes； always uneasy； would be
for ever reading an invisible condemnation。 My heart would be full of
confused and struggling memories； marriage can never move me to the
cruel rapture； the mortal delirium of passion。 I should kill my
husband by my coldness； by comparisons which he would guess； though
hidden in the depths of my conscience。 Oh！ on the day when I should
read a trace of involuntary； even of suppressed reproach in a furrow
on his brow； in a saddened look； in some imperceptible gesture；
nothing could hold me： I should be lying with a fractured skull on the
pavement； and find that less hard than my husband。 It might be my own
over…susceptibility that would lead me to this horrible but welcome
death； I might die the victim of an impatient mood in Octave caused by
some matter of business； or be deceived by some unjust suspicion。
Alas！ I might even mistake some proof of love for a sign of contempt！
〃 'What torture on both sides！ Octave would be always doubting me； I
doubting him。 I； quite involuntarily； should give him a rival wholly
unworthy of him； a man whom I despise； but with whom I have known
raptures branded on me with fire； which are my shame； but which I
cannot forget。
〃 'Have I shown you enough of my heart？ No one； monsieur； can convince
me that love may be renewed； for I neither can nor will accept love
from any one。 A young bride is like a plucked flower； but a guilty
wife is like a flower that had been walked over。 You； who are a
florist； you know whether it is ever possible to restore the broken
stem； to revive the faded colors； to make the sap flow again in the
tender vessels of which the whole vegetative function lies in their
perfect rigidity。 If some botanist should attempt the operation； could
his genius smooth out the folds of the bruised corolla？ If he could
remake a flower； he would be God！ God alone can remake me！ I am
drinking the bitter cup of expiation； but as I drink it I painfully
spell out this sentence： Expiation is not annihilation。
〃 'In my little house； alone； I eat my bread soaked in tears； but no
one sees me eat nor sees me weep。 If I go back to Octave； I must give
up my tearsthey would offend him。 Oh！ monsieur； how many virtues
must a woman tread under foot； not to give herself； but to restore
herself to a betrayed husband？ Who could count them？ God alone； for He
alone can know and encourage the horrible refinements at which the
angels must turn pale。 Nay； I will go further。 A woman has courage in
the presence of her husband if he knows nothing； she shows a sort of
fierce strength in her hypocrisy； she deceives him to secure him
double happiness。 But common knowledge is surely degrading。 Supposing
I could exchange humiliation for ecstasy？ Would not Octave at last
feel that my consent was sheer depravity？ Marriage is based on esteem；
on sacrifices on both sides； but neither Octave nor I could esteem
each other the day after our reunion。 He would have disgraced me by a
love like that of an old man for a courtesan； and I should for ever
feel the shame of being a chattel instead of a lady。 I should
represent pleasure； and not virtue； in his house。 These are the bitter
fruits of such a sin。 I have made myself a bed where I can only toss
on burning coals； a sleepless pillow。
〃 'Here； when I suffer； I bless my sufferings； I say to God； 〃I thank
Thee！〃 But in my husband's house I should be full of terror； tasting
joys to which I have no right。
〃 'All this； monsieur； is not argument； it is the feeling of a soul
made vast and hollow by seven years of suffering。 Finally； must I make
a horrible confession？ I shall always feel at my bosom the lips of a
child conceived in rapture and joy； and in the belief in happiness； of
a child I nursed for seven months； that I shall bear in my womb all
the days of my life。 If other children should draw their nourishment
from me； they would drink in tears mingling wi