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wanted to become a saint。 She bought chaplets and wore amulets；
she wished to have in her room； by the side of her bed； a
reliquary set in emeralds that she might kiss it every evening。
The cure marvelled at this humour； although Emma's religion； he
thought； might； from its fervour； end by touching on heresy；
extravagance。 But not being much versed in these matters； as soon
as they went beyond a certain limit he wrote to Monsieur Boulard；
bookseller to Monsignor； to send him 〃something good for a lady
who was very clever。〃 The bookseller； with as much indifference
as if he had been sending off hardware to niggers； packed up；
pellmell； everything that was then the fashion in the pious book
trade。 There were little manuals in questions and answers；
pamphlets of aggressive tone after the manner of Monsieur de
Maistre； and certain novels in rose…coloured bindings and with a
honied style； manufactured by troubadour seminarists or penitent
blue…stockings。 There were the 〃Think of it； the Man of the World
at Mary's Feet； by Monsieur de ***； decorated with many Orders〃；
〃The Errors of Voltaire； for the Use of the Young；〃 etc。
Madame Bovary's mind was not yet sufficiently clear to apply
herself seriously to anything； moreover； she began this reading
in too much hurry。 She grew provoked at the doctrines of
religion； the arrogance of the polemic writings displeased her by
their inveteracy in attacking people she did not know； and the
secular stories； relieved with religion； seemed to her written in
such ignorance of the world； that they insensibly estranged her
from the truths for whose proof she was looking。 Nevertheless；
she persevered； and when the volume slipped from her hands； she
fancied herself seized with the finest Catholic melancholy that
an ethereal soul could conceive。
As for the memory of Rodolphe； she had thrust it back to the
bottom of her heart； and it remained there more solemn and more
motionless than a king's mummy in a catacomb。 An exhalation
escaped from this embalmed love； that； penetrating through
everything； perfumed with tenderness the immaculate atmosphere in
which she longed to live。 When she knelt on her Gothic prie…Dieu；
she addressed to the Lord the same suave words that she had
murmured formerly to her lover in the outpourings of adultery。 It
was to make faith come； but no delights descended from the
heavens； and she arose with tired limbs and with a vague feeling
of a gigantic dupery。
This searching after faith； she thought； was only one merit the
more； and in the pride of her devoutness Emma compared herself to
those grand ladies of long ago whose glory she； had dreamed of
over a portrait of La Valliere； and who； trailing with so much
majesty the lace…trimmed trains of their long gowns； retired into
solitudes to shed at the feet of Christ all the tears of hearts
that life had wounded。
Then she gave herself up to excessive charity。 She sewed clothes
for the poor； she sent wood to women in childbed； and Charles one
day； on coming home； found three good…for…nothings in the kitchen
seated at the table eating soup。 She had her little girl； whom
during her illness her husband had sent back to the nurse；
brought home。 She wanted to teach her to read； even when Berthe
cried； she was not vexed。 She had made up her mind to
resignation； to universal indulgence。 Her language about
everything was full of ideal expressions。 She said to her child；
〃Is your stomach…ache better； my angel？〃
Madame Bovary senior found nothing to censure except perhaps this
mania of knitting jackets for orphans instead of mending her own
house…linen； but； harassed with domestic quarrels； the good woman
took pleasure in this quiet house； and she even stayed there till
after Easter； to escape the sarcasms of old Bovary； who never
failed on Good Friday to order chitterlings。
Besides the companionship of her mother…in…law； who strengthened
her a little by the rectitude of her judgment and her grave ways；
Emma almost every day had other visitors。 These were Madame
Langlois； Madame Caron； Madame Dubreuil； Madame Tuvache； and
regularly from two to five o'clock the excellent Madame Homais；
who； for her part； had never believed any of the tittle…tattle
about her neighbour。 The little Homais also came to see her；
Justin accompanied them。 He went up with them to her bedroom； and
remained standing near the door； motionless and mute。 Often even
Madame Bovary； taking no heed of him； began her toilette。 She
began by taking out her comb； shaking her head with a quick
movement； and when he for the first time saw all this mass of
hair that fell to her knees unrolling in black ringlets； it was
to him； poor child！ like a sudden entrance into something new and
strange； whose splendour terrified him。
Emma； no doubt； did not notice his silent attentions or his
timidity。 She had no suspicion that the love vanished from her
life was there； palpitating by her side； beneath that coarse
holland shirt； in that youthful heart open to the emanations of
her beauty。 Besides； she now enveloped all things with such
indifference； she had words so affectionate with looks so
haughty； such contradictory ways； that one could no longer
distinguish egotism from charity； or corruption from virtue。 One
evening； for example； she was angry with the servant； who had
asked to go out； and stammered as she tried to find some pretext。
Then suddenly
〃So you love him？〃 she said。
And without waiting for any answer from Felicite； who was
blushing； she added； 〃There！ run along； enjoy yourself！〃
In the beginning of spring she had the garden turned up from end
to end； despite Bovary's remonstrances。 However； he was glad to
see her at last manifest a wish of any kind。 As she grew stronger
she displayed more wilfulness。 First； she found occasion to expel
Mere Rollet； the nurse； who during her convalescence had
contracted the habit of coming too often to the kitchen with her
two nurslings and her boarder； better off for teeth than a
cannibal。 Then she got rid of the Homais family； successively
dismissed all the other visitors； and even frequented church less
assiduously； to the great approval of the druggist； who said to
her in a friendly way
〃You were going in a bit for the cassock！〃
As formerly； Monsieur Bournisien dropped in every day when he
came out after catechism class。 He preferred staying out of doors
to taking the air 〃in the grove；〃 as he called the arbour。 This
was the time when Charles came home。 They were hot； some sweet
cider was brought out； and they drank together to madame's
complete restoration。
Binet was there； that is to say； a little lower down against the
terrace wall； fishing for crayfish。 Bovary invited him to have a
drink； and he thoroughly understood the uncorking of the stone
bottles。
〃You must；〃 he said； throwing a satisfied glance all round him；
even to the very extremity of the landscape； 〃hold the bottle
perpendicularly on the table； and after the strings are cut；
press up the cork with little thrusts； gently； gently； as indeed
they do seltzer…water at restaurants。〃
But during his demonstration the cider often spurted right into
their faces； and then the e