Monsieur de Camors -- Volume 3

ion. But courage had been for some time past his sole remaining virtue; and this at least he sought never to lose. He received, then, most gracefully his mother-in-law,

language and by his smile, he could not preve

measured replies, she felt the presentiment of some disaster. After first pr

the poor child had even put a little rouge on her pale cheeks. M. de Camors himsel

th difficulty from her couch, and

mutual caresses. Then the mother seated herself near her daughter,

matter?" sh

nly you must love your little Ma

but

nd I must not wrong myse

ore you, my darl

you everything; but, mot

am

her, in a low voice, without looking up once, the terrible revelation w

ity of her misfortune, since her mother had received the confidence with so much calmness. But the calmness of Madame de Tecle at this terrible moment was that of the martyrs; for all that could have been suffered by the Christians under the claws of the tiger, or on the rack of the to

her daughter, who at last looked up to her with an express

great affliction, it is true. You are right, n

eally bel

stery under all this; but be assured that

! but he has ac

e, and that some good is left in his soul. Then, too, he feels very much afflicted

ch filled the eyes of both. After a few minutes-"I wish much, my child," said Madam

chamber. Oh, I can walk! I

ducted her as far as the door of the chamber p

me de Tecle, turning and

the young woman, wh

clasped hands toward heaven; then, falling on her knees befo

he house. If a foot seemed approaching him, he rose suddenly and tried to compose his countenance. When the door of the neighboring chamber was opened, his agony was redoubled. He distinguished the whispering of the two voices; then, an instant after, the dull fall of Madame de Tecle upon the carpet; then her despairing sobs. M.

to take my daughter t

ll be grate

E DE

mediately this

f which I do not appr

MO

from the presence of her husband, and from the unfortunate embarrassment of their situation. She desired also to meditate in solitude, in order to decide what course to take under such unexampled circumstances. Final

hastened to read it to her daughter; and both of them, like two poor lost creatures who cling to the smallest twig, remarked with pleasure the tone of respectful abando

o her her natural courage. She banished the thoughts which had weakened her, rose, and went to surprise her mother at her first waking. Soon after, both of them were walking together on the terrace of lime-trees. It was near the end of April; the young, scented verdure spread itself out beneath

Here we are as formerly-both of us i

ook her head and kissed her

an angel!

the event; but it was necessary to keep him in ignorance of it. He was an excellent man; but rough and blunt. The conduct of Camors, if he had but suspected it, would surely have urged him to some irreparable quarrel. Therefore Madame de Tecle and her daughter, in his presence, were compelled to make only half

hought of replacing her child at the side of such a man. But this separation- supposing they could obtain it, through the consent of M. de Camors, or the authority of the law-would give to the public a secret scandal, and might entail redoubled catastrophes. Were it not for these consequences she would, at least, have dug between Madame de Camors and her husband an eternal abyss. Madame de Tecle did not desire this. By force of reflection she had finally seen through the character of M. de Camors in one day-not probably more favorably, but more

ars to her daughter, added: "My poor child, I have almost lost the right

I shall do so," repl

ch you are about to accept will have much bitter

ir arrival in the country, Madame de Tecle wrote M. de Camo

ill bear your name. It does not depend on her to keep this name stainless. She prays you, then, to reserve for her a place in your house. You need not fear any trouble or any reproach f

of all news for eight days, there was no possible catastrophe he did not fancy floating over his head. He had the haughty courage to conceal from Madame de Campvallon the event that had occurred in his house, and to leave her undisturbed while he himself was s

daughter is generous. I have yet enough of generosity left myself to comp

MOR

ion of announcing his intention, he ar

e to have no witnesses, but their meeting was less

ove all, they were proud, and more averse to noisy scenes than women usually are. They received him coldly, then, but calmly. On his p

d ordinary tone. M. de Camors, under the pretext of slight fatigue, retired as he had entered-saluting both the ladies, but without attempting to take their

onstrative in public toward his wife, and his courteous but reserved manner towa

days for a slight explanation, which she did

de Campvallon. This, though a poor excuse in the mother's eyes, still was an extenuation. Probably also he had in his heart, while marrying her daughter, the resolution to break off this fatal liaison, which he had again resumed against his will, as often happens. On all these painful points she dwelt after the departure of M. de Camors, as she had previous to his arrival;

near her daughter in the modest chateau which belonged to the maternal ancestors of M. de Camors, and which we have already described in

th tearful eyes and wounded hearts and heads bowed by the storms of life, the familiar paths where they once knew happiness and peace. But, nevertheless, all these dear confidants of past joys, of blasted hopes, of vanished dreams-if they are mournful witnesses they are also friends. We love them; and they seem to love us. Thus these two poor women, straying amid these woods, these waters, these s

Her health supplied her with a natural excuse for not going, during that summer, to Campvallon, and also f

ad already warned, did not trouble herself much; for the best women, like the worst, excel in c

at year to Campvallon. On his return to Paris, he resumed his old habits, and also his careless egotism, for he recovered little by little from the blow he had received. He began to forget his sufferings and those of his wife; and even to felicitate himself secretly on the turn that chance had given to her situ

y so; as much so as two thir

ess, and foreseeing in the distance, to crown his life, the triumphs of ambition and power. Pleading various doubtful engagements, he went

de him understand, in telegraphic style, that his presence was immediatel

ng he had not a moment to spare if he wished to catch the train which left that morning, h

ads was a new obstacle, and it was three o'clock in the morning when the Count, impatient and travel-worn, jumped out of the little cart before the railings of his avenue. He strode toward the house under the dark and silent dome of the tufted elms. He was in the middle

y heard the hollow and muffled sound of his own beating heart. At the moment he saw the li

the natural explanation of these agonized cries

e them with a violence as imperious and irresistible as a divine law. Camors soon reached the house, and receiving some information from the servants, notified Madame de Tecl

ed; "but she suffers muc

I see

a moment

ntracted, lowered her eyes, then raise

If you believe my pres

mors was not as

would agitate her greatly; and if you will have c

ably be glad to know that I have come, and t

ll tel

Tecle with a slight movement of his

by painful reflections. Not only was his assistance not needed, but it was repelled; not only was he far from a support on the contrary, he was but an additional danger and sorrow. In this thought was a bitterness which he keenly felt. His native generosity, his humanity, shuddered as he heard the terrible c

she said, "i

you. Ho

uest you to go and

ppeared on the threshold o

pproached her, she added, with an e

you have kept terms with her in order to take the child. I

adame," he replied

eathed

airs. She opened the door of the chamb

to her breast her sleeping infant, which was already covered, like its mother, with lace and pink ribbons. From the depths of this nest she fixed on her husband her large eyes, sparkling with a

you very much,

replied, in a voice

him with the same supp

le happier now?

n was fastened on the calm face of h

not take h

!" he

to feel a tear trickling down his cheek. He experienced a singular feeling, he bent over,

of this obduracy could transform itself, or could be materially modified under the stroke of a few transitory emotions, or of a few nervous shocks. M. de Camors rallied quickly fro

nt of his mansion. This was to prepare for the Countess and her son, who were to join him a