not guess it! I said to myself, at least she knows nothing about it, and
sacrificed everything to keep the knowledge of their wrong-doing from
you. Don't cry any more, darling, you will break my heart. I, who would
have given up everything in the world to see you happy! Oh, I have loved
you too much! How I am punished!"

"It is I who am punished," said Micheline, sobbing, "for not obeying you.
Ah! children ought always to heed their mother. She divines the danger.
Is it not too horrible, mamma? I, who have sacrificed everything for him,
to think that he does not love me, and never will love me! What will my
life be without confidence, hope, or affection? I am too unhappy. It
would be better to die!"

"Die! you!" cried her mother, whose eyes, wet with tears, dried in a
moment, as if by an inward fire. "Die! Come, don't talk such nonsense!
Because a man treats you with scorn and betrays you? Are men worth dying
for? No, you shall live, my darling, with your old mother. You shall have
a deed of separation from your husband."

"And he will be free," exclaimed Micheline, angrily. "He will go on
loving her! Oh! I cannot bear that thought. Do you know, what I am going
to tell you seems awful. I love him so much, that I would rather see him
dead than unfaithful."

Madame Desvarennes was struck, and remained silent. Serge dead! That idea
had already occurred to her as a dream of deliverance. It came upon her
peremptorily, violently, irresistibly. She repelled it with an effort.

"I can never think of him but as vile and odious," continued Micheline.
"Every day his sin will seem more dastardly and his hypocrisy more base.