am now!) to Monsieur de Maufrigneuse, not out of affection for me, but
out of regard for him. She discharged her debt to the only man she had
ever loved, for the happiness she had once received from him. Oh! you
need not be astonished at so horrible a conspiracy; it frequently
takes place. Many women are more lovers than mothers, though the
majority are more mothers than wives. The two sentiments, love and
motherhood, developed as they are by our manners and customs, often
struggle together in the hearts of women; one or other must succumb
when they are not of equal strength; when they are, they produce some
exceptional women, the glory of our sex. A man of your genius must
surely comprehend many things that bewilder fools but are none the
less true; indeed I may go further and call them justifiable through
difference of characters, temperaments, attachments, situations. I,
for example, at this moment, after twenty years of misfortunes, of
deceptions, of calumnies endured, and weary days and hollow pleasures,
is it not natural that I should incline to fall at the feet of a man
who would love me sincerely and forever? And yet, the world would
condemn me. But twenty years of suffering might well excuse a few
brief years which may still remain to me of youth given to a sacred
and real love. This will not happen. I am not so rash as to sacrifice
my hopes of heaven. I have borne the burden and heat of the day, I
shall finish my course and win my recompense."

"Angel!" thought d'Arthez.

"After all, I have never blamed my mother; she knew little of me.
Mothers who lead a life like that of the Duchesse d'Uxelles keep their
children at a distance. I saw and knew nothing of the world until my
marriage. You can judge of my innocence! I knew nothing; I was
incapable of understanding the causes of my marriage. I had a fine