the secrets of this house, but you know them, you have seen them. Say
nothing but what is kind and friendly, and you shall have my esteem
--my gratitude," she added in a softer voice. "On those terms you are
welcome at Clochegourde, where you will find friends."

"Ah!" I exclaimed, "I see that I have never really suffered, while
you--"

"No, no!" she exclaimed, with a smile, that smile of all resigned
women which might melt a granite rock. "Do not be astonished at my
frank confidence; it shows you life as it is, not as your imagination
pictures it. We all have our defects and our good qualities. If I had
married a spendthrift he would have ruined me. If I had given myself
to an ardent and pleasure-loving young man, perhaps I could not have
retained him; he might have left me, and I should have died of
jealousy. For I am jealous!" she said, in a tone of excitement, which
was like the thunderclap of a passing storm. "But Monsieur de Mortsauf
loves me as much as he is capable of loving; all that his heart
contains of affection he pours at my feet, like the Magdalen's cup of
ointment. Believe me, a life of love is an exception to the laws of
this earth; all flowers fade; great joys and emotions have a morrow of
evil--if a morrow at all. Real life is a life of anguish; its image is
in that nettle growing there at the foot of the wall,--no sun can
reach it and it keeps green. Yet, here, as in parts of the North,
there are smiles in the sky, few to be sure, but they compensate for
many a grief. Moreover, women who are naturally mothers live and love
far more through sacrifices than through pleasures. Here I draw upon
myself the storms I fear may break upon my children or my people; and
in doing so I feel a something I cannot explain, which gives me secret
courage. The resignation of the night carries me through the day that