I soon learned that he lived near by, with his
widowed mother; and twice a day, when he went to the Palais de
Justice and returned, he passed my home."
Her cheeks were crimson now, her eyes were lowered, and she was
evidently embarrassed. But suddenly, as if ashamed of her
blushes, she proudly raised her head, and said, in a firmer voice:
"Shall I tell you our simple story? Is it necessary? I should not
have concealed anything that has passed from my mother, if I had
been so happy as to possess a mother. A few moments' conversation
now and then, the exchange of a few letters, the pressure of a
hand through the garden gate, and that is all. Still, I have been
guilty of a grave and irreparable fault: I have disobeyed the one
rule of my life--frankness; and I am cruelly punished for doing
so. I did not tell all this to M. de Chalusse--in fact, I dared
not. I was ashamed of my cowardice; from day to day I vowed that
I would confess everything, and yet I procrastinated. I said to
myself every night, 'It shall be done to-morrow; but when the
morrow came I said, 'I will give myself another day--just one more
day.' Indeed, my courage failed me when I thought of the count's
aristocratic prejudices; and besides, I knew how ambitious he was
for my future. On the other hand, moreover, Pascal was always
pleading: 'Don't speak now. My circumstances are constantly
improving. The day is not far off when I shall be able to offer
you wealth and fame.
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