which there is but one shameful way of escape. The round of family
duties, a thankless and irksome task, is in store for me. I shall
curse life; but my child shall have at least a fair semblance of a
mother. I will give her treasures of virtue for the treasures of love
of which I defraud her.

"I have not even the mother's desire to live to enjoy her child's
happiness. I have no belief in happiness. What will Helene's fate be?
My own, beyond doubt. How can a mother ensure that the man to whom she
gives her daughter will be the husband of her heart? You pour scorn on
the miserable creatures who sell themselves for a few coins to any
passer-by, though want and hunger absolve the brief union; while
another union, horrible for quite other reasons, is tolerated, nay
encouraged, by society, and a young and innocent girl is married to a
man whom she has only met occasionally during the previous three
months. She is sold for her whole lifetime. It is true that the price
is high! If you allow her no compensation for her sorrows, you might
at least respect her; but no, the most virtuous of women cannot escape
calumny. This is our fate in its double aspect. Open prostitution and
shame; secret prostitution and unhappiness. As for the poor,
portionless girls, they may die or go mad, without a soul to pity
them. Beauty and virtue are not marketable in the bazaar where souls
and bodies are bought and sold--in the den of selfishness which you
call society. Why not disinherit daughters? Then, at least, you might
fulfil one of the laws of nature, and guided by your own inclinations,
choose your companions."

"Madame, from your talk it is clear to me that neither the spirit of
family nor the sense of religion appeals to you. Why should you
hesitate between the claims of the social selfishness which irritates