to keep one's self for the spiritual, has not this always been the
great happiness of the saints?"

"If they had not lived," cried Pascal, "they could not now be saints.
Let suffering come, and I will bless it, for it is perhaps the only
great happiness!"

But he felt that she rebelled against this; that he was going to lose
her again. At the bottom of our anxiety about the beyond is the secret
fear and hatred of life. So that he hastily assumed again his pleasant
smile, so affectionate and conciliating.

"No, no! Enough for to-day; let us dispute no more; let us love each
other dearly. And see! Martine is calling us, let us go in to dinner."



III.

For a month this unpleasant state of affairs continued, every day
growing worse, and Clotilde suffered especially at seeing that Pascal
now locked up everything. He had no longer the same tranquil
confidence in her as before, and this wounded her so deeply that, if
she had at any time found the press open, she would have thrown the
papers into the fire as her grandmother Felicite had urged her to do.
And the disagreements began again, so that they often remained without
speaking to each other for two days together.

One morning, after one of these misunderstandings which had lasted
since the day before, Martine said as she was serving the breakfast: