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He has the tragic head of Louis XIII。 His moustache and tuft have been
allowed to grow； but I made him shave the whiskers and beard； which
were getting too common。 An honorable poverty has been his safeguard；
and handed him over to me； unsoiled by the loose life which ruins so
many young men。 His teeth are magnificent； and he has a constitution
of iron。 His keen blue eyes； for me full of tenderness； will flash
like lightning at any rousing thought。
Like all men of strong character and powerful mind； he has an
admirable temper； its evenness would surprise you； as it did me。 I
have listened to the tale of many a woman's home troubles； I have
heard of the moods and depression of men dissatisfied with themselves；
who either won't get old or age ungracefully； men who carry about
through life the rankling memory of some youthful excess； whose veins
run poison and whose eyes are never frankly happy； men who cloak
suspicion under bad temper； and make their women pay for an hour's
peace by a morning of annoyance； who take vengeance on us for a beauty
which is hateful to them because they have ceased themselves to be
attractive；all these are horrors unknown to youth。 They are the
penalty of unequal unions。 Oh！ my dear； whatever you do； don't marry
Athenais to an old man！
But his smilehow I feast on it！ A smile which is always there； yet
always fresh through the play of subtle fancy； a speaking smile which
makes of the lips a storehouse for thoughts of love and unspoken
gratitude； a smile which links present joys to past。 For nothing is
allowed to drop out of our common life。 The smallest works of nature
have become part and parcel of our joy。 In these delightful woods
everything is alive and eloquent of ourselves。 An old moss…grown oak；
near the woodsman's house on the roadside； reminds us how we sat
there； wearied； under its shade； while Gaston taught me about the
mosses at our feet and told me their story； till； gradually ascending
from science to science； we touched the very confines of creation。
There is something so kindred in our minds that they seem to me like
two editions of the same book。 You see what a literary tendency I have
developed！ We both have the habit； or the gift； of looking at every
subject broadly； of taking in all its points of view； and the proof we
are constantly giving ourselves of the singleness of our inward vision
is an ever…new pleasure。 We have actually come to look on this
community of mind as a pledge of love； and if it ever failed us； it
would mean as much to us as would a breach of fidelity in an ordinary
home。
My life； full as it is of pleasures； would seem to you； nevertheless；
extremely laborious。 To begin with； my dear； you must know that
Louise…Armande…Marie de Chaulieu does her own room。 I could not bear
that a hired menial； some woman or girl from the outside； should
become initiatedliterary touch again！into the secrets of my
bedroom。 The veriest trifles connected with the worship of my heart
partake of its sacred character。 This is not jealousy； it is self…
respect。 Thus my room is done out with all the care a young girl in
love bestows on her person； and with the precision of an old maid。 My
dressing…room is no chaos of litter； on the contrary； it makes a
charming boudoir。 My keen eye has foreseen all contingencies。 At
whatever hour the lord and master enters； he will find nothing to
distress； surprise； or shock him； he is greeted by flowers； scents；
and everything that can please the eye。
I get up in the early dawn； while he is still sleeping； and； without
disturbing him； pass into the dressing…room； where； profiting by my
mother's experience； I remove the traces of sleep by bathing in cold
water。 For during sleep the skin； being less active； does not perform
its functions adequately； it becomes warm and covered with a sort of
mist or atmosphere of sticky matter； visible to the eye。 From a
sponge…bath a woman issues ten years younger； and this； perhaps； is
the interpretation of the myth of Venus rising from the sea。 So the
cold water restores to me the saucy charm of dawn； and； having combed
and scented my hair and made a most fastidious toilet； I glide back；
snake…like； in order that my master may find me； dainty as a spring
morning； at his wakening。 He is charmed with this freshness； as of a
newly…opened flower； without having the least idea how it is produced。
The regular toilet of the day is a matter for my maid； and this takes
place later in a larger room； set aside for the purpose。 As you may
suppose； there is also a toilet for going to bed。 Three times a day；
you see； or it may be four； do I array myself for the delight of my
husband； which； again； dear one； is suggestive of certain ancient
myths。
But our work is not all play。 We take a great deal of interest in our
flowers； in the beauties of the hothouse； and in our trees。 We give
ourselves in all seriousness to horticulture； and embosom the chalet
in flowers； of which we are passionately fond。 Our lawns are always
green； our shrubberies as well tended as those of a millionaire。 And
nothing I assure you； can match the beauty of our walled garden。 We
are regular gluttons over our fruit； and watch with tender interest
our Montreuil peaches； our hotbeds； our laden trellises； and pyramidal
pear…trees。
But lest these rural pursuits should fail to satisfy my beloved's
mind； I have advised him to finish； in the quiet of this retreat； some
plays which were begun in his starvation days； and which are really
very fine。 This is the only kind of literary work which can be done in
odd moments； for it requires long intervals of reflection； and does
not demand the elaborate pruning essential to a finished style。 One
can't make a task…work of dialogue； there must be biting touches；
summings…up； and flashes of wit； which are the blossoms of the mind；
and come rather by inspiration than reflection。 This sort of
intellectual sport is very much in my line。 I assist Gaston in his
work； and in this way manage to accompany him even in the boldest
flights of his imagination。 Do you see now how it is that my winter
evenings never drag？
Our servants have such an easy time； that never once since we were
married have we had to reprimand any of them。 When questioned about
us； they have had wit enough to draw on their imaginations； and have
given us out as the companion and secretary of a lady and gentleman
supposed to be traveling。 They never go out without asking permission；
which they know will not be refused； they are contented too； and see
plainly that it will be their own fault if there is a change for the
worse。 The gardeners are allowed to sell the surplus of our fruits and
vegetables。 The dairymaid does the same with the milk； the cream； and
the fresh butter； on condition that the best of the produce is
reserved for us。 They are well pleased with their profits； and we are
delighted with an abundance which no money and no ingenuity can
procure in that terrible Paris； where it costs a hundred francs to
produce a single fine peach。
All this is not without its meaning； my dear。 I wish to fill the place
of society to my husband； now so