racemes；　the　tiniest　corollas；　heaths；　nectaries　of　the　most
  variegated　hues。　Her　hands；　as　swift　as　her　thoughts；　went　from　the
  table　to　the　flower　she　was　making；　as　those　of　an　accomplished
  pianist　fly　over　the　keys。　Her　fingers　seemed　to　be　fairies；　to　use
  Perrault's　expression；　so　infinite　were　the　different　actions　of
  twisting；　fitting；　and　pressure　needed　for　the　work；　all　hidden　under
  grace　of　movement；　while　she　adapted　each　motion　to　the　result　with
  the　lucidity　of　instinct。
  〃I　could　not　tire　of　admiring　her　as　she　shaped　a　flower　from　the
  materials　sorted　before　her；　padding　the　wire　stem　and　adjusting　the
  leaves。　She　displayed　the　genius　of　a　painter　in　her　bold　attempts；
  she　copied　faded　flowers　and　yellowing　leaves；　she　struggled　even　with
  wildflowers；　the　most　artless　of　all；　and　the　most　elaborate　in　their
  simplicity。
  〃　'This　art；'　she　would　say；　'is　in　its　infancy。　If　the　women　of　Paris
  had　a　little　of　the　genius　which　the　slavery　of　the　harem　brings　out
  in　Oriental　women；　they　would　lend　a　complete　language　of　flowers　to
  the　wreaths　they　wear　on　their　head。　To　please　my　own　taste　as　an
  artist　I　have　made　drooping　flowers　with　leaves　of　the　hue　of
  Florentine　bronze；　such　as　are　found　before　or　after　the　winter。　Would
  not　such　a　crown　on　the　head　of　a　young　woman　whose　life　is　a　failure
  have　a　certain　poetical　fitness？　How　many　things　a　woman　might　express
  by　her　head…dress！　Are　there　not　flowers　for　drunken　Bacchantes；
  flowers　for　gloomy　and　stern　bigots；　pensive　flowers　for　women　who　are
  bored？　Botany；　I　believe；　may　be　made　to　express　every　sensation　and
  thought　of　the　soul；　even　the　most　subtle。'
  〃She　would　employ　me　to　stamp　out　the　leaves；　cut　up　material；　and
  prepare　wires　for　the　stems。　My　affected　desire　for　occupation　made　me
  soon　skilful。　We　talked　as　we　worked。　When　I　had　nothing　to　do；　I　read
  new　books　to　her；　for　I　had　my　part　to　keep　up　as　a　man　weary　of　life；
  worn　out　with　griefs；　gloomy；　sceptical；　and　soured。　My　person　led　to
  adorable　banter　as　to　my　purely　physical　resemblancewith　the
  exception　of　his　club　footto　Lord　Byron。　It　was　tacitly　acknowledged
  that　her　own　troubles；　as　to　which　she　kept　the　most　profound　silence；
  far　outweighed　mine；　though　the　causes　I　assigned　for　my　misanthropy
  might　have　satisfied　Young　or　Job。
  〃I　will　say　nothing　of　the　feelings　of　shame　which　tormented　me　as　I
  inflicted　on　my　heart；　like　the　beggars　in　the　street；　false　wounds　to
  excite　the　compassion　of　that　enchanting　woman。　I　soon　appreciated　the
  extent　of　my　devotedness　by　learning　to　estimate　the　baseness　of　a
  spy。　The　expressions　of　sympathy　bestowed　on　me　would　have　comforted
  the　greatest　grief。　This　charming　creature；　weaned　from　the　world；　and
  for　so　many　years　alone；　having；　besides　love；　treasures　of　kindliness
  to　bestow；　offered　these　to　me　with　childlike　effusiveness　and　such
  compassion　as　would　inevitably　have　filled　with　bitterness　any
  profligate　who　should　have　fallen　in　love　with　her；　for；　alas；　it　was
  all　charity；　all　sheer　pity。　Her　renunciation　of　love；　her　dread　of
  what　is　called　happiness　for　women；　she　proclaimed　with　equal
  vehemence　and　candor。　These　happy　days　proved　to　me　that　a　woman's
  friendship　is　far　superior　to　her　love。
  〃I　suffered　the　revelations　of　my　sorrows　to　be　dragged　from　me　with
  as　many　grimaces　as　a　young　lady　allows　herself　before　sitting　down　to
  the　piano；　so　conscious　are　they　of　the　annoyance　that　will　follow。　As
  you　may　imagine；　the　necessity　for　overcoming　my　dislike　to　speak　had
  induced　the　Countess　to　strengthen　the　bonds　of　our　intimacy；　but　she
  found　in　me　so　exact　a　counterpart　of　her　own　antipathy　to　love；　that
  I　fancied　she　was　well　content　with　the　chance　which　had　brought　to
  her　desert　island　a　sort　of　Man　Friday。　Solitude　was　perhaps　beginning
  to　weigh　on　her。　At　the　same　time；　there　was　nothing　of　the　coquette
  in　her；　nothing　survived　of　the　woman；　she　did　not　feel　that　she　had　a
  heart；　she　told　me；　excepting　in　the　ideal　world　where　she　found
  refuge。　I　involuntarily　compared　these　two　liveshers　and　the
  Count's：his；　all　activity；　agitation；　and　emotion；　hers；　all
  inaction；　quiescence；　and　stagnation。　The　woman　and　the　man　were
  admirably　obedient　to　their　nature。　My　misanthropy　allowed　me　to　utter
  cynical　sallies　against　men　and　women　both；　and　I　indulged　in　them；
  hoping　to　bring　Honorine　to　the　confidential　point；　but　she　was　not　to
  be　caught　in　any　trap；　and　I　began　to　understand　that　mulish　obstinacy
  which　is　commoner　among　women　than　is　generally　supposed。
  〃　'The　Orientals　are　right；'　I　said　to　her　one　evening；　'when　they
  shut　you　up　and　regard　you　merely　as　the　playthings　of　their　pleasure。
  Europe　has　been　well　punished　for　having　admitted　you　to　form　an
  element　of　society　and　for　accepting　you　on　an　equal　footing。　In　my
  opinion；　woman　is　the　most　dishonorable　and　cowardly　being　to　be
  found。　Nay；　and　that　is　where　her　charm　lies。　Where　would　be　the
  pleasure　of　hunting　a　tame　thing？　When　once　a　woman　has　inspired　a
  man's　passion；　she　is　to　him　for　ever　sacred；　in　his　eyes　she　is
  hedged　round　by　an　imprescriptible　prerogative。　In　men　gratitude　for
  past　delights　is　eternal。　Though　he　should　find　his　mistress　grown　old
  or　unworthy；　the　woman　still　has　rights　over　his　heart；　but　to　you
  women　the　man　you　have　loved　is　as　nothing　to　you；　nay；　more；　he　is
  unpardonable　in　one　thinghe　lives　on！　You　dare　not　own　it；　but　you
  all　have　in　your　hearts　the　feeling　which　that　popular　calumny　called
  tradition　ascribes　to　the　Lady　of　the　Tour　de　Nesle：　〃What　a　pity　it
  is　that　we　cannot　live　on　love　as　we　live　on　fruit；　and　that　when　we
  have　had　our　fill；　nothing　should　survive　but　the　remembrance　of
  pleasure！〃　'
  〃　'God　has；　no　doubt；　reserved　such　perfect　bliss　for　Paradise；'　said
  she。　'But；'　she　added；　'if　your　argument　seems　to　you　very　witty；　to
  me　it　has　the　disadvantage　of　being　false。　What　can　those　women　be　who
  give　themselves　up　to　a　succession　of　loves？'　she　asked；　looking　at　me
  as　the　Virgin　in　Ingres'　picture　looks　at　Louis　XIII。　offering　her　his
  kingdom。
  〃　'You　are　an　actress　in　good　faith；'　said　I；　'for　you　gave　me　a　look
  just　now　which　would　make　the　fame　of　an　actress。　Still；　lovely　as　you
  are；　you　have　loved；　/ergo/；　you　forget。'
  〃　'I！'　she　exclaimed；　evading　my　question；　'I　am　not　a　woman。　I　am　a
  nun；　and　seventy…two　years　old！'
  〃　'Then；　how　can　you　so　positively　assert　that　you　feel　more　keenly
  than　I？　Sorrow　has　but　one　form　for　women。　The　only　misfortunes　they
  regard　are　disappointments　of　the　heart。'
  〃She　looked　at　me　sweetly；　and；　like　all　women　when　stuck　between　the
  issues　of　a　dilemma；　or　held　in　the　clutches　of　truth；　she　persisted；
  nevertheless；　in　her　wilfulness。
  〃　'I　am　a　nun；'　she　said；　'and　you　talk　to　me　of　the　world　where　I
  shall　never　again　set　foot。'
  〃　'Not　even　in　thought？'　said　I。
  〃　'Is　the　world　so　much　to　be　desired？'　she　replied。　'Oh！　when　my　mind
  wanders；　it　goes　higher。　The　angel　of　perfection；　the　beautiful　angel
  Gabriel；　often　sings　in　my　heart。　If　I　were　rich；　I　should　work；　all
  the　same；　to　keep　me　from　soaring　too　often　on　the　many…tinted　wings
  of　the　angel；　and　wandering　in　the　world　of　fancy。　There　are
  meditations　which　are　the　ruin　of　us　women！　I　owe　much　peace　of　mind
  to　my　flowers；　though　sometimes　they　fail　to　occupy　me。　On　some　days　I
  find　my　soul　invaded　by　a　purposeless　expectancy；　I　cannot　banish　some
  idea　which　takes　possession　of　me；　which　seems　to　make　my　fingers
  clumsy。　I　feel　that　some　great　event　is　impending；　that　my　life　is
  about　to　change；　I　listen　vaguely；　I　stare　into　the　darkness；　I　have
  no　liking　for　my　work；　and　after　a　thousand　fatigues　I　find　life　once
  moreeveryday　life。　Is　this　a　warning　from　heaven？　I　ask　myself'
  〃After　three　months　of　this　struggle　between　two　diplomates；　concealed
  under　the　semblance　of　youthful　melancholy；　and　a　woman　whose　disgust
  of　life　made　her　invulnerable；　I　told　the　Count　that　it　was　impossible
  to　drag　this　tortoise　out　of　her　shell；　it　must　be　broken。　The　evening
  before；　in　our　last　quite　friendly　discussion；　the　Countess　had
  exclaimed：
  〃　'Lucretia's　dagger　wrote　in　letters　of　blood　the　watchword　of
  woman's　charter：　/Liberty！/'
  〃From　that　moment　the　Count　left　me　free　to　act。
  〃　'I　have　been　paid　a　hundred　francs　for　the　flowers　and　caps　I　made
  this　week！'　Honorine　exclaimed　gleefully　one　Saturday　evening　when　I
  went　to　visit　her　in　the　little　sitting…room　on　the　ground　floor；
  which　the　unavowed　proprietor　had　had　regilt。
  〃It　was　ten　o'clock。　The　twilight　of　July　and　a　glorious　moon　lent　us
  their　misty　light。　Gusts　of　mingled　perfumes　soothed　the　soul；　the
  Countess　was　clinking　in　her　hand　the　five　gold　pieces　given　to　her　by
  a　supposititious　dealer　in　fashionable　frippery；　another　of　Octave's
  accomplices　found　for　him　by　a　judge；　M。　Popinot。
  〃　'I　earn　my　living　by　amusing　myself；'　said　she；　'I　am　free；　when
  men；　armed　with　their　laws；　have　tried　to　make　us　slaves。　Oh；　I　have
  transports　of　pride　every　Saturday！　In　short；　I　like　M。　Gaudissart's
  gold　pieces　as　much　as　Lord　Byron；　your　double；　liked　Mr。　Murray's。'
  〃　'This　is　not　becoming　in　a　woman；'　said　I。
  〃　'Pooh！　Am　I　a　woman？　I　am　a　boy　gifted