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attain the noblest ideal of a perfect woman。 You tax me with
insincerity because I dole out to Louis； from day to day； the measure
of his intimacy with me； but is it not too close an intimacy which
provokes rupture？ My aim is to give him； in the very interest of his
happiness； many occupations； which will all serve as distractions to
his love； and this is not the reasoning of passion。 If affection be
inexhaustible； it is not so with love： the task； therefore； of a woman
truly no light oneis to spread it out thriftily over a lifetime。
At the risk of exciting your disgust； I must tell you that I persist
in the principles I have adopted； and hold myself both heroic and
generous in so doing。 Virtue； my pet； is an abstract idea； varying in
its manifestations with the surroundings。 Virtue in Provence； in
Constantinople； in London； and in Paris bears very different fruit；
but is none the less virtue。 Each human life is a substance compacted
of widely dissimilar elements； though； viewed from a certain height；
the general effect is the same。
If I wished to make Louis unhappy and to bring about a separation； all
I need do is to leave the helm in his hands。 I have not had your good
fortune in meeting with a man of the highest distinction； but I may
perhaps have the satisfaction of helping him on the road to it。 Five
years hence let us meet in Paris and see！ I believe we shall succeed
in mystifying you。 You will tell me then that I was quite mistaken；
and that M。 de l'Estorade is a man of great natural gifts。
As for this brave love； of which I know only what you tell me； these
tremors and night watches by starlight on the balcony； this idolatrous
worship； this deification of womanI knew it was not for me。 You can
enlarge the borders of your brilliant life as you please； mine is
hemmed in to the boundaries of La Crampade。
And you reproach me for the jealous care which alone can nurse this
modest and fragile shoot into a wealth of lasting and mysterious
happiness！ I believed myself to have found out how to adapt the charm
of a mistress to the position of a wife； and you have almost made me
blush for my device。 Who shall say which of us is right； which is
wrong？ Perhaps we are both right and both wrong。 Perhaps this is the
heavy price which society exacts for our furbelows； our titles； and
our children。
I too have my red camellias； but they bloom on my lips in smiles for
my double chargethe father and the sonwhose slave and mistress I
am。 But； my dear； your last letters made me feel what I have lost！ You
have taught me all a woman sacrifices in marrying。 One single glance
did I take at those beautiful wild plateaus where you range at your
sweet will； and I will not tell you the tears that fell as I read。 But
regret is not remorse； though it may be first cousin to it。
You say； 〃Marriage has made you a philosopher！〃 Alas！ bitterly did I
feel how far this was from the truth； as I wept to think of you swept
away on love's torrent。 But my father has made me read one of the
profoundest thinkers of these parts； the man on whom the mantle of
Boussuet has fallen； one of those hard…headed theorists whose words
force conviction。 While you were reading /Corinne/； I conned Bonald；
and here is the whole secret of my philosophy。 He revealed to me the
Family in its strength and holiness。 According to Bonald； your father
was right in his homily。
Farewell； my dear fancy； my friend； my wild other self。
XIX
LOUISE DE CHAULIEU TO MME。 DE L'ESTORADE
Well； my Renee； you are a love of a woman； and I quite agree now that
we can only be virtuous by cheating。 Will that satisfy you？ Moreover；
the man who loves us is our property； we can make a fool or a genius
of him as we please； only； between ourselves； the former happens more
commonly。 You will make yours a genius； and you won't tell the secret
there are two heroic actions； if you will！
Ah！ if there were no future life； how nicely you would be sold； for
this is martyrdom into which you are plunging of your own accord。 You
want to make him ambitious and to keep him in love！ Child that you
are； surely the last alone is sufficient。
Tell me； to what point is calculation a virtue； or virtue calculation？
You won't say？ Well； we won't quarrel over that； since we have Bonald
to refer to。 We are； and intend to remain； virtuous； nevertheless at
this moment I believe that you； with all your pretty little knavery；
are a better woman than I am。
Yes； I am shockingly deceitful。 I love Felipe； and I conceal it from
him with an odious hypocrisy。 I long to see him leap from his tree to
the top of the wall； and from the wall to my balconyand if he did；
how I should wither him with my scorn！ You see； I am frank enough with
you。
What restrains me？ Where is the mysterious power which prevents me
from telling Felipe； dear fellow； how supremely happy he has made me
by the outpouring of his loveso pure； so absolute； so boundless； so
unobtrusive； and so overflowing？
Mme。 de Mirbel is painting my portrait； and I intend to give it to
him； my dear。 What surprises me more and more every day is the
animation which love puts into life。 How full of interest is every
hour； every action； every trifle！ and what amazing confusion between
the past； the future； and the present！ One lives in three tenses at
once。 Is it still so after the heights of happiness are reached？ Oh！
tell me； I implore you； what is happiness？ Does it soothe； or does it
excite？ I am horribly restless； I seem to have lost all my bearings； a
force in my heart drags me to him； spite of reason and spite of
propriety。 There is this gain； that I am better able to enter into
your feelings。
Felipe's happiness consists in feeling himself mine； the aloofness of
his love； his strict obedience； irritate me； just as his attitude of
profound respect provoked me when he was only my Spanish master。 I am
tempted to cry out to him as he passes； 〃Fool； if you love me so much
as a picture； what will it be when you know the real me？〃
Oh！ Renee； you burn my letters； don't you？ I will burn yours。 If other
eyes than ours were to read these thoughts which pass from heart to
heart； I should send Felipe to put them out； and perhaps to kill the
owners； by way of additional security。
Monday。
Oh！ Renee； how is it possible to fathom the heart of man？ My father
ought to introduce me to M。 Bonald； since he is so learned； I would
ask him。 I envy the privilege of God； who can read the undercurrents
of the heart。
Does he still worship？ That is the whole question。
If ever； in gesture； glance； or tone； I were to detect the slightest
falling off in the respect he used to show me in the days when he was
my instructor in Spanish； I feel that I should have strength to put
the whole thing from me。 〃Why these fine words； these grand
resolutions？〃 you will say。 Dear； I will tell you。
My fascinating father； who treats me with the devotion of an Italian
/cavaliere servente/ for his lady； had my portrait painted； as I told
you； by Mme。 de Mirbel。 I contrived to get a copy made； good enough to
do for the Duke； and sent the original to Felipe。 I despatched it
yesterday； and t