Countess　had　gone　to　bed　at　six；　worn　out　with　fatigue；　and　that；
  having　taken　a　soothing　draught　prepared　by　the　chemist；　she　had　now
  fallen　asleep。
  〃This　is　her　letter；　of　which　I　kept　a　copyfor　you；　mademoiselle；〃
  said　the　Consul；　addressing　Camille；　〃know　all　the　resources　of　art；
  the　tricks　of　style；　and　the　efforts　made　in　their　compositions　by
  writers　who　do　not　lack　skill；　but　you　will　acknowledge　that
  literature　could　never　find　such　language　in　its　assumed　pathos；　there
  is　nothing　so　terrible　as　truth。　Here　is　the　letter　written　by　this
  woman；　or　rather　by　this　anguish：
  〃　'MONSIEUR　MAURICE；
  〃　'I　know　all　your　uncle　would　say　to　me；　he　is　not　better　informed
  than　my　own　conscience。　Conscience　is　the　interpreter　of　God　to　man。　I
  know　that　if　I　am　not　reconciled　to　Octave；　I　shall　be　damned；　that　is
  the　sentence　of　religious　law。　Civil　law　condemns　me　to　obey；　cost
  what　it　may。　If　my　husband　does　not　reject　me；　the　world　will　regard
  me　as　pure；　as　virtuous；　whatever　I　may　have　done。　Yes；　that　much　is
  sublime　in　marriage；　society　ratifies　the　husband's　forgiveness；　but
  it　forgets　that　the　forgiveness　must　be　accepted。　Legally；
  religiously；　and　from　the　world's　point　of　view　I　ought　to　go　back　to
  Octave。　Keeping　only　to　the　human　aspect　of　the　question；　is　it　not
  cruel　to　refuse　him　happiness；　to　deprive　him　of　children；　to　wipe　his
  name　out　of　the　Golden　Book　and　the　list　of　peers？　My　sufferings；　my
  repugnance；　my　feelings；　all　my　egoismfor　I　know　that　I　am　an　egoist
  ought　to　be　sacrificed　to　the　family。　I　shall　be　a　mother；　the
  caresses　of　my　child　will　wipe　away　many　tears！　I　shall　be　very　happy；
  I　certainly　shall　be　much　looked　up　to。　I　shall　ride；　haughty　and
  wealthy；　in　a　handsome　carriage！　I　shall　have　servants　and　a　fine
  house；　and　be　the　queen　of　as　many　parties　as　there　are　weeks　in　the
  year。　The　world　will　receive　me　handsomely。　I　shall　not　have　to　climb
  up　again　to　the　heaven　of　aristocracy；　I　shall　never　have　come　down
  from　it。　So　God；　the　law；　society　are　all　in　accord。
  〃　'　〃What　are　you　rebelling　against？〃　I　am　asked　from　the　height　of
  heaven；　from　the　pulpit；　from　the　judge's　bench；　and　from　the　throne；
  whose　august　intervention　may　at　need　be　invoked　by　the　Count。　Your
  uncle；　indeed；　at　need；　would　speak　to　me　of　a　certain　celestial　grace
  which　will　flood　my　heart　when　I　know　the　pleasure　of　doing　my　duty。
  〃　'God；　the　law；　the　world；　and　Octave　all　wish　me　to　live；　no　doubt。
  Well；　if　there　is　no　other　difficulty；　my　reply　cuts　the　knot：　I　will
  not　live。　I　will　become　white　and　innocent　again；　for　I　will　lie　in　my
  shroud；　white　with　the　blameless　pallor　of　death。　This　is　not　in　the
  least　〃mulish　obstinacy。〃　That　mulish　obstinacy　of　which　you　jestingly
  accused　me　is　in　a　woman　the　result　of　confidence；　of　a　vision　of　the
  future。　Though　my　husband；　sublimely　generous；　may　forget　all；　I　shall
  not　forget。　Does　forgetfulness　depend　on　our　will？　When　a　widow
  re…marries；　love　makes　a　girl　of　her；　she　marries　a　man　she　loves。　But
  I　cannot　love　the　Count。　It　all　lies　in　that；　do　not　you　see？
  〃　'Every　time　my　eyes　met　his　I　should　see　my　sin　in　them；　even　when
  his　were　full　of　love。　The　greatness　of　his　generosity　would　be　the
  measure　of　the　greatness　of　my　crime。　My　eyes；　always　uneasy；　would　be
  for　ever　reading　an　invisible　condemnation。　My　heart　would　be　full　of
  confused　and　struggling　memories；　marriage　can　never　move　me　to　the
  cruel　rapture；　the　mortal　delirium　of　passion。　I　should　kill　my
  husband　by　my　coldness；　by　comparisons　which　he　would　guess；　though
  hidden　in　the　depths　of　my　conscience。　Oh！　on　the　day　when　I　should
  read　a　trace　of　involuntary；　even　of　suppressed　reproach　in　a　furrow
  on　his　brow；　in　a　saddened　look；　in　some　imperceptible　gesture；
  nothing　could　hold　me：　I　should　be　lying　with　a　fractured　skull　on　the
  pavement；　and　find　that　less　hard　than　my　husband。　It　might　be　my　own
  over…susceptibility　that　would　lead　me　to　this　horrible　but　welcome
  death；　I　might　die　the　victim　of　an　impatient　mood　in　Octave　caused　by
  some　matter　of　business；　or　be　deceived　by　some　unjust　suspicion。
  Alas！　I　might　even　mistake　some　proof　of　love　for　a　sign　of　contempt！
  〃　'What　torture　on　both　sides！　Octave　would　be　always　doubting　me；　I
  doubting　him。　I；　quite　involuntarily；　should　give　him　a　rival　wholly
  unworthy　of　him；　a　man　whom　I　despise；　but　with　whom　I　have　known
  raptures　branded　on　me　with　fire；　which　are　my　shame；　but　which　I
  cannot　forget。
  〃　'Have　I　shown　you　enough　of　my　heart？　No　one；　monsieur；　can　convince
  me　that　love　may　be　renewed；　for　I　neither　can　nor　will　accept　love
  from　any　one。　A　young　bride　is　like　a　plucked　flower；　but　a　guilty
  wife　is　like　a　flower　that　had　been　walked　over。　You；　who　are　a
  florist；　you　know　whether　it　is　ever　possible　to　restore　the　broken
  stem；　to　revive　the　faded　colors；　to　make　the　sap　flow　again　in　the
  tender　vessels　of　which　the　whole　vegetative　function　lies　in　their
  perfect　rigidity。　If　some　botanist　should　attempt　the　operation；　could
  his　genius　smooth　out　the　folds　of　the　bruised　corolla？　If　he　could
  remake　a　flower；　he　would　be　God！　God　alone　can　remake　me！　I　am
  drinking　the　bitter　cup　of　expiation；　but　as　I　drink　it　I　painfully
  spell　out　this　sentence：　Expiation　is　not　annihilation。
  〃　'In　my　little　house；　alone；　I　eat　my　bread　soaked　in　tears；　but　no
  one　sees　me　eat　nor　sees　me　weep。　If　I　go　back　to　Octave；　I　must　give
  up　my　tearsthey　would　offend　him。　Oh！　monsieur；　how　many　virtues
  must　a　woman　tread　under　foot；　not　to　give　herself；　but　to　restore
  herself　to　a　betrayed　husband？　Who　could　count　them？　God　alone；　for　He
  alone　can　know　and　encourage　the　horrible　refinements　at　which　the
  angels　must　turn　pale。　Nay；　I　will　go　further。　A　woman　has　courage　in
  the　presence　of　her　husband　if　he　knows　nothing；　she　shows　a　sort　of
  fierce　strength　in　her　hypocrisy；　she　deceives　him　to　secure　him
  double　happiness。　But　common　knowledge　is　surely　degrading。　Supposing
  I　could　exchange　humiliation　for　ecstasy？　Would　not　Octave　at　last
  feel　that　my　consent　was　sheer　depravity？　Marriage　is　based　on　esteem；
  on　sacrifices　on　both　sides；　but　neither　Octave　nor　I　could　esteem
  each　other　the　day　after　our　reunion。　He　would　have　disgraced　me　by　a
  love　like　that　of　an　old　man　for　a　courtesan；　and　I　should　for　ever
  feel　the　shame　of　being　a　chattel　instead　of　a　lady。　I　should
  represent　pleasure；　and　not　virtue；　in　his　house。　These　are　the　bitter
  fruits　of　such　a　sin。　I　have　made　myself　a　bed　where　I　can　only　toss
  on　burning　coals；　a　sleepless　pillow。
  〃　'Here；　when　I　suffer；　I　bless　my　sufferings；　I　say　to　God；　〃I　thank
  Thee！〃　But　in　my　husband's　house　I　should　be　full　of　terror；　tasting
  joys　to　which　I　have　no　right。
  〃　'All　this；　monsieur；　is　not　argument；　it　is　the　feeling　of　a　soul
  made　vast　and　hollow　by　seven　years　of　suffering。　Finally；　must　I　make
  a　horrible　confession？　I　shall　always　feel　at　my　bosom　the　lips　of　a
  child　conceived　in　rapture　and　joy；　and　in　the　belief　in　happiness；　of
  a　child　I　nursed　for　seven　months；　that　I　shall　bear　in　my　womb　all
  the　days　of　my　life。　If　other　children　should　draw　their　nourishment
  from　me；　they　would　drink　in　tears　mingling　with　the　milk；　and　turning
  it　sour。　I　seem　a　light　thing；　you　regard　me　as　a　childAh　yes！　I
  have　a　child's　memory；　the　memory　which　returns　to　us　on　the　verge　of
  the　tomb。　So；　you　see；　there　is　not　a　situation　in　that　beautiful　life
  to　which　the　world　and　my　husband's　love　want　to　recall　me；　which　is
  not　a　false　position；　which　does　not　cover　a　snare　or　reveal　a
  precipice　down　which　I　must　fall；　torn　by　pitiless　rocks。　For　five
  years　now　I　have　been　wandering　in　the　sandy　desert　of　the　future
  without　finding　a　place　convenient　to　repent　in；　because　my　soul　is
  possessed　by　true　repentance。
  〃　'Religion　has　its　answers　ready　to　all　this；　and　I　know　them　by
  heart。　This　suffering；　these　difficulties；　are　my　punishment；　she
  says；　and　God　will　give　me　strength　to　endure　them。　This；　monsieur；　is
  an　argument　to　certain　pious　souls　gifted　with　an　energy　which　I　have
  not。　I　have　made　my　choice　between　this　hell；　where　God　does　not
  forbid　my　blessing　Him；　and　the　hell　that　awaits　me　under　Count
  Octave's　roof。
  〃　'One　word　more。　If　I　were　still　a　girl；　with　the　experience　I　now
  have；　my　husband　is　the　man　I　should　choose；　but　that　is　the　very
  reason　of　my　refusal。　I　could　not　bear　to　blush　before　that　man。　What！
  I　should　be　always　on　my　knees；　he　always　standing　upright；　and　if　we
  were　to　exchange　positions；　I　should　scorn　him！　I　will　not　be　better
  treated　by　him　in　consequence　of　my　sin。　The　angel　who　might　venture
  under　such　circumstances　on　certain　liberties　which　are　permissible
  when　both　are　equally　blameless；　is　not　on　earth；　he　dwells　in　heaven！
  Octave　is　full　of　delicate　feeling；　I　know；　but　even　in　his　soul
  （which；　however　generous；　is　a　man's　soul　after　all）　there　is　no
  guarantee　for　the　new　life　I　should　lead　with　him。
  〃　'Come　then；　and　tell　me　where　I　may　find　the　solitude；　the　peace；
  the　silence；　so　kindly　to　irreparable　woes；　which　you　promised　me。'
  〃After　making　this　copy　of　the　letter　to　preserve　it　complete；　I　went
  to　the　Rue　Payenne。　Anxiety　had　conquered　the　power　of　opiu