future years.

"You must not just drift, my Paul, like so many of your countrymen do. You
must help to stem the tide of your nation's decadence, and be a strong
man. For me, when I read now of England, it seems as if all the hereditary
legislators--it is what you call your nobles, eh?--these men have for
their motto, like Louis XV., _Apres moi le deluge_--It will last my time.
Paul, wherever I am, it will give me joy for you to be strong and great,
sweetheart. I shall know then I have not loved just a beautiful shell,
whose mind I was able to light for a time. That is a sadness, Paul,
perhaps the greatest of all, to see a soul one has illuminated and
awakened to the highest point gradually slipping back to a browsing sheep,
to live for _la chasse_ alone, and horses, and dogs, with each day no
higher aim than its own mean pleasure. Ah, Paul!" she continued with
sudden passion, "I would rather you were dead--dead and cold with me, than
I should have to feel you were growing a _rien du tout_--a thing who will
go down into nothingness, and be forgotten by men!"

Her face was aflame with the _feu sacre_. The noble brow and line of her
throat will ever remain in Paul's memory as a thing apart in womankind.
Who could have small or unworthy thoughts who had known her--this splendid
lady?

And his worship grew and grew.




CHAPTER XVII