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the happy, careless life we have led for the last five years. To

know that you are banished from France for years is enough to kill



me. How soon can a fortune be made in India? Will you ever return?

I was right when I refused, with instinctiveobstinacy, that



separation as to property which my mother and you were so

determined to carry out. What did I tell you then? Did I not warn



you that it was casting a reflection upon you, and would ruin your

credit? It was not until you were really angry that I gave way.



My dear Paul, never have you been so noble in my eyes as you are

at this moment. To despair of nothing, to start courageously to



seek a fortune! Only your character, your strength of mind could

do it. I sit at your feet. A man who avows his weakness with your



good faith, who rebuilds his fortune from the same motive that

made him wreck it, for love's sake, for the sake of an



irresistible passion, oh, Paul, that man is sublime! Therefore,

fear nothing; go on, through all obstacles, not doubting your



Natalie--for that would be doubting yourself. Poor darling, you

mean to live in me? And I shall ever be in you. I shall not be



here; I shall be wherever you are, wherever you go.

Though your letter has caused me the keenest pain, it has also



filled me with joy--you have made me know those two extremes!

Seeing how you love me, I have been proud to learn that my love is



truly felt. Sometimes I have thought that I loved you more than

you loved me. Now, I admit myself vanquished, you have added the



delightful superiority--of loving--to all the others with which

you are blest. That precious letter in which your soul reveals



itself will lie upon my heart during all your absence; for my

soul, too, is in it; that letter is my glory.



I shall go to live at Lanstrac with my mother. I die to the world;

I will economize my income and pay your debts to their last



farthing. From this day forth, Paul, I am another woman. I bid

farewell forever to society; I will have no pleasures that you



cannot share. Besides, Paul, I ought to leave Paris and live in

retirement. Dear friend, you will soon have a noble reason to make



your fortune. If your courage needed a spur you would find it in

this. Cannot you guess? We shall have a child. Your cherished



desires are granted. I feared to give you one of those false hopes

which hurt so much--have we not had grief enough already on that



score? I was determined not to be mistaken in this good news.

To-day I feel certain, and it makes me happy to shed this joy upon



your sorrows.

This morning, fearing nothing and thinking you still at home, I



went to the Assumption; all things smiled upon me; how could I

foresee misfortune? As I left the church I met my mother; she had



heard of your distress, and came, by post, with all her savings,

thirty thousand francs, hoping to help you. Ah! what a heart is



hers, Paul! I felt joyful, and hurried home to tell you this good

news, and to breakfast with you in the greenhouse, where I ordered



just the dainties that you like. Well, Augustine brought me your

letter,--a letter from you, when we had slept together! A cold



fear seized me; it was like a dream! I read your letter! I read it

weeping, and my mother shared my tears. I was half-dead. Such



love, such courage, such happiness, such misery! The richest

fortunes of the heart, and the momentary ruin of all interests! To



lose you at a moment when my admiration of your greatness thrilled

me! what woman could have resisted such a tempest of emotion? To



know you far away when your hand upon my heart would have stilled

its throbbings; to feel that YOU were not here to give me that



look so precious to me, to rejoice in our new hopes; that I was

not with you to soften your sorrows by those caresses which made



your Natalie so dear to you! I wished to start, to follow you, to

fly to you. But my mother told me you had taken passage in a ship



which leaves Bordeaux to-morrow, that I could not reach you except

by post, and, moreover, that it was madness in my present state to



risk our future by attempting to follow you. I could not bear such

violent emotions; I was taken ill, and am writing to you now in



bed.

My mother is doing all she can to stop certain calumnies which



seem to have got about on your disaster. The Vandenesses, Charles

and Felix, have earnestly defended you; but your friend de Marsay



treats the affair satirically. He laughs at your accusers instead

of replying to them. I do not like his way of lightly brushing






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