life.

Correspondence, in which the pen is always bolder than speech, and
thought, wreathing itself with flowers, allows itself to be seen
without disguise, and brought the countess to the highest pitch of
enthusiasm. She believed she saw in Raoul one of the noblest spirits
of the epoch, a delicate but misjudged heart without a stain and
worthy of adoration; she saw him advancing with a brave hand to grasp
the sceptre of power. Soon that speech so beautiful in love would echo
from the tribune. Marie now lived only in this life of a world outside
her own. Her taste was lost for the tranquil joys of home, and she
gave herself up to the agitations of this whirlwind life communicated
by a clever and adoring pen. She kissed Raoul's letters, written in
the midst of the ceaseless battles of the press, with time taken from
necessary studies; she felt their value; she was certain of being
loved, and loved only, with no rival but the fame and ambition he
adored. She found enough in her country solitude to fill her soul and
employ her faculties,--happy, indeed, to have been so chosen by such a
man, who to her was an angel.

During the last days of autumn Marie and Raoul again met and renewed
their walks in the Bois, where alone they could see each other until
the salons reopened. But when the winter fairly began, Raoul appeared
in social life at his apogee. He was almost a personage. Rastignac,
now out of power with the ministry, which went to pieces on the death
of de Marsay, leaned upon Nathan, and gave him in return the warmest
praise. Madame de Vandenesse, feeling this change in public opinion,
was desirous of knowing if her husband's judgment had altered also.
She questioned him again; perhaps with the hope of obtaining one of
those brilliant revenges which please all women, even the noblest and