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puzzle； chattering all the time； till at last he finds some chink in
the obstacle； if there is room for the blade of a knife to pass； his
little carriage will ride through in triumph。
And Nais？ Nais is so completely a second self that I can hardly
realize her as distinct from my own flesh and blood。 What a darling
she is； and how I love to make a little lady of her； to dress her
curly hair； tender thoughts mingling the while with every touch！ I
must have her happy； I shall only give her to the man who loves her
and whom she loves。 But； Heavens！ when I let her put on her little
ornaments； or pass a cherry…colored ribbon through her hair； or fasten
the shoes on her tiny feet； a sickening thought comes over me。 How can
one order the destiny of a girl？ Who can say that she will not love a
scoundrel or some man who is indifferent to her？ Tears often spring to
my eyes as I watch her。 This lovely creature； this flower； this
rosebud which has blossomed in one's heart； to be handed over to a man
who will tear it from the stem and leave it bare！ Louise； it is you
you； who in two years have not written three words to tell me of your
welfareit is you who have recalled to my mind the terrible
possibilities of marriage； so full of anguish for a mother wrapped up；
as I am； in her child。 Farewell now； for in truth you don't deserve my
friendship； and I hardly know how to write。 Oh！ answer me； dear
Louise。
LII
MME。 GASTON TO MME。 DE L'ESTORADE
The Chalet。
So； after a silence of two years； you are pricked by curiosity； and
want to know why I have not written。 My dear Renee； there are no
words； no images； no language to express my happiness。 That we have
strength to bear it sums up all I could say。 It costs us no effort；
for we are in perfect sympathy。 The whole two years have known no note
of discord in the harmony； no jarring word in the interchange of
feeling； no shade of difference in our lightest wish。 Not one in this
long succession of days has failed to bear its own peculiar fruit； not
a moment has passed without being enriched by the play of fancy。 So
far are we from dreading the canker of monotony in our life； that our
only fear is lest it should not be long enough to contain all the
poetic creations of a love as rich and varied in its development as
Nature herself。 Of disappointment not a trace！ We find more pleasure
in being together than on the first day； and each hour as it goes by
discloses fresh reason for our love。 Every day as we take our evening
stroll after dinner； we tell each other that we really must go and see
what is doing in Paris； just as one might talk of going to
Switzerland。
〃Only think；〃 Gaston will exclaim； 〃such and such a boulevard is being
made； the Madeleine is finished。 We ought to see it。 Let us go
to…morrow。〃
And to…morrow comes； and we are in no hurry to get up； and we
breakfast in our bedroom。 Then midday is on us； and it is too hot； a
siesta seems appropriate。 Then Gaston wishes to look at me； and he
gazes on my face as though it were a picture； losing himself in this
contemplation； which； as you may suppose； is not one…sided。 Tears rise
to the eyes of both as we think of our love and tremble。 I am still
the mistress； pretending； that is； to give less than I receive； and I
revel in this deception。 To a woman what can be sweeter than to see
passion ever held in check by tenderness； and the man who is her
master stayed； like a timid suitor； by a word from her； within the
limits that she chooses？
You asked me to describe him； but； Renee； it is not possible to make a
portrait of the man we love。 How could the heart be kept out of the
work？ Besides； to be frank between ourselves； we may admit that one of
the dire effects of civilization on our manners is to make of man in
society a being so utterly different from the natural man of strong
feeling； that sometimes not a single point of likeness can be found
between these two aspects of the same person。 The man who falls into
the most graceful operatic poses； as he pours sweet nothings into your
ear by the fire at night； may be entirely destitute of those more
intimate charms which a woman values。 On the other hand； an ugly；
boorish； badly…dressed figure may mark a man endowed with the very
genius of love； and who has a perfect mastery over situations which
might baffle us with our superficial graces。 A man whose conventional
aspect accords with his real nature； who； in the intimacy of wedded
love； possesses that inborn grace which can be neither given nor
acquired； but which Greek art has embodied in statuary； that careless
innocence of the ancient poets which； even in frank undress； seems to
clothe the soul as with a veil of modestythis is our ideal； born of
our own conceptions； and linked with the universal harmony which seems
to be the reality underlying all created things。 To find this ideal in
life is the problem which haunts the imagination of every womanin
Gaston I have found it。
Ah！ dear； I did not know what love could be； united to youth； talent；
and beauty。 Gaston has no affectations； he moves with an instinctive
and unstudied grace。 When we walk alone together in the woods； his arm
round my waist； mine resting on his shoulder； body fitting to body；
and head touching head； our step is so even； uniform； and gentle； that
those who see us pass by night take the vision for a single figure
gliding over the graveled walks； like one of Homer's immortals。 A like
harmony exists in our desires； our thoughts； our words。 More than once
on some evening when a passing shower has left the leaves glistening
and the moist grass bright with a more vivid green； it has chanced
that we ended our walk without uttering a word； as we listened to the
patter of falling drops and feasted our eyes on the scarlet sunset；
flaring on the hilltops or dyeing with a warmer tone the gray of the
tree trunks。
Beyond a doubt our thoughts then rose to Heaven in silent prayer；
pleading as it were； for our happiness。 At times a cry would escape us
at the moment when some sudden bend on the path opened up fresh
beauties。 What words can tell how honey…sweet； how full of meaning； is
a kiss half…timidly exchanged within the sanctuary of natureit is as
though God had created us to worship in this fashion。
And we return home； each more deeply in love than ever。
A love so passionate between old married people would be an outrage on
society in Paris； only in the heart of the woods； like lovers； can we
give scope to it。
To come to particulars； Gaston is of middle heightthe height proper
to all men of purpose。 Neither stout nor thin； his figure is admirably
made； with ample fulness in the proportions； while every motion is
agile； he leaps a ditch with the easy grace of a wild animal。 Whatever
his attitude； he seems to have an instinctive sense of balance； and
this is very rare in men who are given to thought。 Though a dark man；
he has an extraordinarily fair complexion； his jet…black hair
contrasts finely with the lustreless tints of the neck and forehead。
He has the tragic head of Louis XIII。 His moustache and tuft have been
allowed to grow； but I made him shave the w