Icanrecalltheday，nownearlyfourteenyearsago，whenIembarkedonalifeofself-sacrificewiththedespairofashipwreckedmarinerclingingtothemastofhisvessel；now，asIinvokethememoryofpastyears，IfeelthatIwouldmakethesamechoiceagain。Nootherguidingprincipleissosafe，orleadstosuchrichreward。Thespectacleofyourlife，which，foralltheromanceandpoetrywithwhichyouinvestit，stillremainsbasedonnothingbutaruthlessselfishness，hashelpedtostrengthenmyconvictions。ThisisthelasttimeIshallspeaktoyouinthisway；butIcouldnotrefrainfromoncemorepleadingwithyouwhenIfoundthatyourhappinesshadbeenproofagainstthemostsearchingofalltrials。
　　AndonemorepointImusturgeonyou，suggestedbymymeditationsonyourretirement。Life，whetherofthebodyortheheart，consistsincertainbalancedmovements。Anyexcessintroducedintotheworkingofthisroutinegivesriseeithertopainortopleasure，bothofwhichareamerefeverofthesoul，boundtobefugitivebecausenatureisnotsoframedastosupportitlong。Buttomakeoflifeonelongexcessissurelytochoosesicknessforone’sportion。Youaresickbecauseyoumaintainatthetemperatureofpassionafeelingwhichmarriageoughttoconvertintoasteadying，purifyinginfluence。
　　Yes，mysweet，Iseeitclearlynow；thegloryofahomeconsistsinthisverycalm，thisintimacy，thissharingalikeofgoodandevil，whichthevulgarridicule。HownoblewasthereplyoftheDuchessedeSully，thewifeofthegreatSully，tosomeonewhoremarkedthatherhusband，forallhisgraveexterior，didnotscrupletokeepamistress。“Whatofthat？“shesaid。“Irepresentthehonorofthehouse，andshoulddeclinetoplaythepartofacourtesanthere。“
　　Butyou，Louise，whoarenaturallymorepassionatethantender，wouldbeatoncethewifeandthemistress。WiththesoulofaHeloiseandthepassionsofaSaintTheresa，yousliptheleashonallyourimpulses，solongastheyaresanctionedbylaw；inaword，youdegradethemarriagerite。Surelythetablesareturned。Thereproachesyouonceheapedonmeforimmorally，asyousaid，seizingthemeansofhappinessfromtheveryoutsetofmyweddedlife，mightbedirectedagainstyourselfforgraspingateverythingwhichmayserveyourpassion。What!mustnatureandsocietyalikebeinbondagetoyourcaprice？YouaretheoldLouise；youhaveneveracquiredthequalitieswhichoughttobeawoman’s；self-willedandunreasonableasagirl，youintroducewithalintoyourlovethekeenestandmostmercenaryofcalculations!Areyousurethat，afterall，thepriceyouaskforyourtoiletsisnottoohigh？Alltheseprecautionsaretomymindverysuggestiveofmistrust。
　　Oh，dearLouise，ifonlyyouknewthesweetnessofamother’seffortstodisciplineherselfinkindnessandgentlenesstoallabouther!Myproud，self-sufficingtempergraduallydissolvedintoasoftmelancholy，whichinturnhasbeenswallowedupbythosedelightsofmotherhoodwhichhavebeenitsreward。Iftheearlyhoursweretoilsome，theeveningwillbetranquilandclear。Mydreadislestthedayofyourlifeshouldtaketheoppositecourse。
　　WhenIhadreadyourlettertoaclose，IprayedGodtosendyouamongusforaday，thatyoumightseewhatfamilylifereallyis，andlearnthenatureofthosejoys，whicharelastingandsweeterthantonguecantell，becausetheyaregenuine，simple，andnatural。But，alas!
　　whatchancehaveIwiththebestofargumentsagainstafallacywhichmakesyouhappy？AsIwritethesewords，myeyesfillwithtears。I
　　hadfeltsosurethatsomemonthsofhoneymoonwouldproveasurfeitandrestoreyoutoreason。ButIseethatthereisnolimittoyourappetite，andthat，havingkilledamanwholovedyou，youwillnotceasetillyouhavekilledloveitself。Farewell，dearmisguidedfriend。IamindespairthattheletterwhichIhopedmightreconcileyoutosocietybyitspictureofmyhappinessshouldhavebroughtforthonlyapaeanofselfishness。Yes，yourloveisselfish；youloveGastonfarlessforhimselfthanforwhatheistoyou……
　　Renee，calamityhascome——no，thatisnowordforit——ithasburstlikeathunderboltoveryourpoorLouise。Youknowwhatthatmeans；
　　calamityformeisdoubt；certaintywouldbedeath。
　　Thedaybeforeyesterday，whenIhadfinishedmyfirsttoilet，I
　　lookedeverywhereforGastontotakealittleturnwithmebeforelunch，butinvain。Iwenttothestable，andthereIsawhismareallinalather，whilethegroomwasremovingthefoamwithaknifebeforerubbingherdown。
　　“WhointheworldhasputFedeltainsuchastate？“Iasked。
　　“Master，“repliedthelad。
　　IsawthemudofParisonthemare’slegs，forcountrymudisquitedifferent；andatonceitflashedthroughme，“HehasbeentoParis。“
　　Thisthoughtraisedaswarmofothersinmyheart，anditseemedasthoughallthelifeinmybodyrushedthere。TogotoPariswithouttellingme，atthehourwhenIleavehimalone，tohastenthereandbackatsuchspeedastodistressFedelta。Suspicionclutchedmeinitsirongrip，tillIcouldhardlybreathe。Iwalkedasideafewstepstoaseat，whereItriedtorecovermyself-command。
　　HereGastonfoundme，apparentlypaleandfluttered，forheimmediatelyexclaimed，“Whatiswrong？“inatoneofsuchalarm，thatIroseandtookhisarm。Butmymusclesrefusedtomove，andIwasforcedtositdownagain。Thenhetookmeinhisarmsandcarriedmetotheparlorcloseby，wherethefrightenedservantspressedafterus，tillGastonmotionedthemaway。Oncelefttoourselves，Irefusedtospeak，butwasabletoreachmyroom，whereIshutmyselfin，toweepmyfill。Gastonremainedsomethingliketwohoursatmydoor，listeningtomysobsandquestioningwithangelicpatiencehispoordarling，whomadenoresponse。
　　AtlastItoldhimthatIwouldseehimwhenmyeyeswerelessredandmyvoicewassteadyagain。
　　Myformalwordsdrovehimfromthehouse。ButbythetimeIhadbathedmyeyesinicedwaterandcooledmyface，Ifoundhiminourroom，thedoorintowhichwasopen，thoughIhadheardnosteps。Hebeggedmetotellhimwhatwaswrong。
　　“Nothing，“Isaid；“IsawthemudofParisonFedelta’stremblinglegs；itseemedstrangethatyoushouldgotherewithouttellingme；
　　but，ofcourse，youarefree。“
　　“Ishallpunishyouforsuchwickedthoughtsbynotgivinganyexplanationtillto-morrow，“hereplied。
　　“Lookatme，“Isaid。
　　Myeyesmethis；deepansweredtodeep。No，notatraceofthecloudofdisloyaltywhich，risingfromthesoul，mustdimtheclearnessoftheeye。Ifeignedsatisfaction，thoughreallyunconvinced。Itisnotwomenonlywhocanlieanddissemble!
　　Thewholeofthedaywespenttogether。Everandagain，asIlookedathim，Irealizedhowfastmyheart-stringswereboundtohim。HowI
　　trembledandflutteredwithinwhen，afteramoment’sabsence，hereappeared。Iliveinhim，notinmyself。Mycruelsufferingsgavethelietoyourunkindletter。DidIeverfeelmylifethusboundupinthenobleSpaniard，whoadoredme，asIadorethisheartlessboy？I
　　hatethatmare!FoolthatIwastokeephorses!ButthenextthingwouldhavebeentolameGastonorimprisonhiminthecottage。Wildthoughtslikethesefilledmybrain；youseehownearIwastomadness!Iflovebenotthecage，whatpoweronearthcanholdbackthemanwhowantstobefree？
　　Iaskedhimpoint-blank，“DoIboreyou？“
　　“Whatneedlesstortureyougiveyourself!“washisreply，whilehelookedatmewithtender，pityingeyes。“NeverhaveIlovedyousodeeply。“
　　“Ifthatistrue，mybeloved，letmesellFedelta，“Ianswered。
　　“Sellher，byallmeans!“
　　Thereplycrushedme。Wasitnotacoverttauntatmywealthandhisownnothingnessinthehouse？Thismayneverhaveoccurredtohim，butIthoughtithad，andoncemoreIlefthim。Itwasnight，andIwouldgotobed。
　　Oh!Renee，tobealonewithaharrowingthoughtdrivesonetothoughtsofdeath。Thesecharminggardens，thestarrynight，thecoolair，ladenwithincensefromourwealthofflowers，ourvalley，ourhills——
　　allseemedtomegloomy，black，anddesolate。ItwasasthoughIlayatthefootofaprecipice，surroundedbyserpentsandpoisonousplants，andsawnoGodinthesky。Suchanightagesawoman。
　　NextmorningIsaid：
　　“TakeFedeltaandbeofftoParis!Don’tsellher；Iloveher。Doesshenotcarryyou？“
　　Buthewasnotdeceived；mytonebetrayedthestormoffeelingwhichI
　　strovetoconceal。
　　“Trustme!“hereplied；andthegesturewithwhichheheldouthishand，theglanceofhiseye，weresofullofloyaltythatIwasovercome。
　　“Whatpettycreatureswomenare!“Iexclaimed。
　　“No，youloveme，thatisall，“hesaid，pressingmetohisheart。
　　“GotoPariswithoutme，“Isaid，andthistimeImadehimunderstandthatmysuspicionswerelaidaside。
　　Hewent；Ithoughthewouldhavestayed。Iwon’tattempttotellyouwhatIsuffered。Ifoundasecondselfwithin，quitestrangetome。A
　　crisislikethishas，forthewomanwholoves，atragicsolemnitythatbaffleswords；thewholeofliferisesbeforeyouthen，andyousearchinvainforanyhorizontoit；theveriesttrifleisbigwithmeaning，aglancecontainsavolume，iciclesdriftonutteredwords，andthedeathsentenceisreadinamovementofthelips。
　　Ithoughthewouldhavepaidmebackinkind；hadInotbeenmagnanimous？Iclimbedtothetopofthechalet，andmyeyesfollowedhimontheroad。Ah!mydearRenee，hevanishedfrommysightwithanappallingswiftness。
　　“Howkeenheistogo!“wasthethoughtthatsprangofitself。
　　Oncemorealone，Ifellbackintothehellofpossibilities，themaelstromofmistrust。ThereweremomentswhenIwouldhavewelcomedanycertainty，eventheworst，asarelieffromthetortureofsuspense。Suspenseisaduelcarriedonintheheart，andwegivenoquartertoourselves。
　　Ipacedupanddownthewalks。Ireturnedtothehouse，onlytotearoutagain，likeamadwoman。Gaston，wholeftatseveno’clock，didnotreturntilleleven。Now，asitonlytakeshalfanhourtoreachParisthroughtheparkofSt。CloudandtheBoisdeBoulogne，itisplainthathemusthavespentthreehoursintown。Hecamebackradiant，withawhipinhishandforme，anindia-rubberwhipwithagoldhandle。
　　ForafortnightIhadbeenwithoutawhip，myoldonebeingwornandbroken。
　　“Wasitforthisyoutorturedme？“Isaid，asIadmiredtheworkmanshipofthisbeautifulornament，whichcontainsalittlescent-
　　boxatoneend。
　　Thenitflashedonmethatthepresentwasafreshartifice。
　　NeverthelessIthrewmyselfatonceonhisneck，notwithoutreproachinghimgentlyforhavingcausedmesomuchpainforthesakeofatrifle。Hewasgreatlypleasedwithhisingenuity；hiseyesandhiswholebearingplainlyshowedtherestrainedtriumphofthesuccessfulplotter；forthereisaradianceofthesoulwhichisreflectedineveryfeatureandturnofthebody。Whilestillexaminingthebeautiesofthisworkofart，Iaskedhimatamomentwhenwehappenedtobelookingeachotherintheface：
　　“Whoistheartist？“
　　“Afriendofmine。“
　　“Ah!IseeithasbeenmountedbyVerdier，“andIreadthenameoftheshopprintedonthehandle。
　　Gastonisnothingbutachildyet。Heblushed，andImademuchofhimasarewardfortheshamehefeltindeceivingme。Ipretendedtonoticenothing，andhemaywellhavethoughttheincidentwasover。
　　May25th。
　　ThenextmorningIwasinmyriding-habitbysixo’clock，andbysevenlandedatVerdier’s，whereseveralwhipsofthesamepatternwereshowntome。OneofthemenservingrecognizedminewhenIpointeditouttohim。
　　“Wesoldthatyesterdaytoayounggentleman，“hesaid。AndfromthedescriptionIgavehimofmytraitorGaston，notadoubtwasleftofhisidentity。IwillspareyouthepalpitationswhichrentmyheartduringthatjourneytoParisandthelittlescenethere，whichmarkedtheturning-pointofmylife。
　　Byhalf-sevenIwashomeagain，andGastonfoundme，freshandblooming，inmymorningdress，saunteringaboutwithamake-believenonchalance。IfeltconfidentthatoldPhilippe，whohadbeentakenintomyconfidence，wouldnothavebetrayedmyabsence。
　　“Gaston，“Isaid，aswewalkedbythesideofthelake，“youcannotblindmetothedifferencebetweenaworkofartinspiredbyfriendshipandsomethingwhichhasbeencastinamould。“