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dies。 Well； I have reached that point； my dear friend。 The induration
is proceeding and nothing checks it。 Just look at my yellow skin； my
feverish eyes； my excessive thinness。 I am withering away。 But what is
to be done？ I brought the seeds of the disease home with me from the
emigration； heaven knows what I suffered then！ My marriage； which
might have repaired the wrong； far from soothing my ulcerated mind
increased the wound。 What did I find？ ceaseless fears for the
children； domestic jars； a fortune to remake； economies which required
great privations； which I was obliged to impose upon my wife； but
which I was the one to suffer from； and then；I can tell this to none
but you； Felix；I have a worse trouble yet。 Though Blanche is an
angel； she does not understand me； she knows nothing of my sufferings
and she aggravates them； but I forgive her。 It is a dreadful thing to
say； my friend； but a less virtuous woman might have made me more
happy by lending herself to consolations which Blanche never thinks
of； for she is as silly as a child。 Moreover my servants torment me；
blockheads who take my French for Greek！ When our fortune was finally
remade inch by inch； and I had some relief from care； it was too late；
the harm was done； I had reached the period when the appetite is
vitiated。 Then came my severe illness； so ill…managed by Origet。 In
short； I have not six months to live。〃
I listened to the count in terror。 On meeting the countess I had been
struck with her yellow skin and the feverish brilliancy of her eyes。 I
led the count towards the house while seeming to listen to his
complaints and his medical dissertations； but my thoughts were all
with Henriette； and I wanted to observe her。 We found her in the
salon； where she was listening to a lesson in mathematics which the
Abbe Dominis was giving Jacques； and at the same time showing
Madeleine a stitch of embroidery。 Formerly she would have laid aside
every occupation the day of my arrival to be with me。 But my love was
so deeply real that I drove back into my heart the grief I felt at
this contrast between the past and the present； and thought only of
the fatal yellow tint on that celestial face； which resembled the halo
of divine light Italian painters put around the faces of their saints。
I felt the icy wind of death pass over me。 Then when the fire of her
eyes； no longer softened by the liquid light in which in former times
they moved； fell upon me； I shuddered； I noticed several changes；
caused by grief； which I had not seen in the open air。 The slender
lines which； at my last visit； were so lightly marked upon her
forehead had deepened； her temples with their violet veins seemed
burning and concave； her eyes were sunk beneath the brows； their
circles browned；alas！ she was discolored like a fruit when decay is
beginning to show upon the surface； or a worm is at the core。 I； whose
whole ambition had been to pour happiness into her soul； I it was who
embittered the spring from which she had hoped to refresh her life and
renew her courage。 I took a seat beside her and said in a voice filled
with tears of repentance； 〃Are you satisfied with your own health？〃
〃Yes；〃 she answered； plunging her eyes into mine。 〃My health is
there；〃 she added； motioning to Jacques and Madeleine。
The latter； just fifteen； had come victoriously out of her struggle
with anaemia； and was now a woman。 She had grown tall； the Bengal
roses were blooming in her once sallow cheeks。 She had lost the
unconcern of a child who looks every one in the face； and now dropped
her eyes； her movements were slow and infrequent； like those of her
mother； her figure was slim； but the gracefulness of the bust was
already developing； already an instinct of coquetry had smoothed the
magnificent black hair which lay in bands upon her Spanish brow。 She
was like those pretty statuettes of the Middle Ages； so delicate in
outline； so slender in form that the eye as it seizes their charm
fears to break them。 Health； the fruit of untold efforts； had made her
cheeks as velvety as a peach and given to her throat the silken down
which； like her mother's； caught the light。 She was to live！ God had
written it； dear bud of the loveliest of human flowers； on the long
lashes of her eyelids； on the curve of those shoulders which gave
promise of a development as superb as her mother's！ This brown young
girl； erect as a poplar； contrasted with Jacques； a fragile youth of
seventeen； whose head had grown immensely； causing anxiety by the
rapid expansion of the forehead； while his feverish； weary eyes were
in keeping with a voice that was deep and sonorous。 The voice gave
forth too strong a volume of tone； the eye too many thoughts。 It was
Henriette's intellect and soul and heart that were here devouring with
swift flames a body without stamina； for Jacques had the milk…white
skin and high color which characterize young English women doomed
sooner or later to the consumptive curse；an appearance of health
that deceives the eye。 Following a sign by which Henriette； after
showing me Madeleine； made me look at Jacques drawing geometrical
figures and algebraic calculations on a board before the Abbe Dominis；
I shivered at the sight of death hidden beneath the roses； and was
thankful for the self…deception of his mother。
〃When I see my children thus； happiness stills my griefsjust as
those griefs are dumb； and even disappear； when I see them failing。 My
friend；〃 she said； her eyes shining with maternal pleasure； 〃if other
affections fail us； the feelings rewarded here； the duties done and
crowned with success； are compensation enough for defeat elsewhere。
Jacques will be； like you； a man of the highest education； possessed
of the worthiest knowledge； he will be； like you； an honor to his
country； which he may assist in governing； helped by you； whose
standing will be so high； but I will strive to make him faithful to
his first affections。 Madeleine； dear creature； has a noble heart； she
is pure as the snows on the highest Alps； she will have a woman's
devotion and a woman's graceful intellect。 She is proud； she is worthy
of being a Lenoncourt。 My motherhood； once so tried； so tortured； is
happy now； happy with an infinite happiness； unmixed with pain。 Yes；
my life is full； my life is rich。 You see； God makes my joy to blossom
in the heart of these sanctified affections； and turns to bitterness
those that might have led me astray〃
〃Good！〃 cried the abbe； joyfully。 〃Monsieur le vicomte begins to know
as much as I〃
Just then Jacques coughed。
〃Enough for to…day； my dear abbe；〃 said the countess； 〃above all； no
chemistry。 Go for a ride on horseback； Jacques；〃 she added； letting
her son kiss her with the tender and yet dignified pleasure of a
mother。 〃Go； dear； but take care of yourself。〃
〃But；〃 I said； as her eyes followed Jacques with a lingering look；
〃you have not answered me。 Do you feel ill？〃
〃Oh； sometimes； in my stomach。 If I were in Paris I should have the
honors of gastritis； the fashionable disease。〃
〃My mother suffers very much and very often；〃 said Madeleine。
〃Ah！〃 she said； 〃does my health interest you？〃
Madeleine； astonished at the irony of these words； looked from one to
the other； my eyes counted the roses on the cushion of the gray and
green sofa which was in the salon。
〃This situation is intolerable；〃 I whispered in her ear。
〃Did I create it？〃 she asked。 〃Dear child；〃 she said aloud； with one
of those cruel levities by which women point their vengeance； 〃don't
you read history？ France and England are enemies； and ever have been。
Madeleine knows that； she knows that a broad sea； and a cold and
stormy one； separates them。〃
The vases on the mantelshelf had given place to candelabra； no doubt
to deprive me of the pleasure of filling them with flowers； I found
them later in my own room。 When my servant arrived I went out to give
him some orders； he had brought me certain things I wished to place in
my room。
〃Felix；〃 said the countess； 〃do not make a mistake。 My aunt's old room
is now Madeleine's。 Yours is over the count's。〃
Though guilty； I had a heart； those words were dagger thrusts coldly
given at its tenderest spot； for which she seemed to aim。 Moral
sufferings are not fixed quantities； they depend on the sensitiveness
of souls。 The countess had trod each round of the ladder of pain； but；
for that very reason； the kindest of women was now as cruel as she was
once beneficent。 I looked at Henriette； but she averted her head。 I
went to my new room； which was pretty； white and green。 Once there I
burst into tears。 Henriette heard me as she entered with a bunch of
flowers in her hand。
〃Henriette；〃 I said； 〃will you never forgive a wrong that is indeed
excusable？〃
〃Do not call me Henriette；〃 she said。 〃She no longer exists； poor
soul； but you may feel sure of Madame de Mortsauf； a devoted friend；
who will listen to you and who will love you。 Felix； we will talk of
these things later。 If you have still any tenderness for me let me
grow accustomed to seeing you。 Whenever words will not rend my heart；
if the day should ever come when I recover courage； I will speak to
you； but not