第8章

Withthathegavehimselfaresoundingblowonthecavityofhischestandtookupapositionbeforethefireplace，aftercastingaglanceatModeste，whichslippedlikearayoflightbetweenhisheavyhalf—closedeyelids。Heperceived，inthisunexpectedincident，achanceofinterrogatingtheheartofhissovereign。DumaythoughtforamomentthattheclerkdaredtoaspiretoModeste，andheexchangedarapidglancewiththeothers，whounderstoodhim，andbegantoeyethelittlemanwithaspeciesofterrormingledwithcuriosity。

"I，too，havemydreams，"saidButscha，nottakinghiseyesfromModeste。

Theyounggirlloweredhereyelidswithamovementthatwasarevelationtotheyoungman。

"Youloveromance，"hesaid，addressingher。"Letme，inthismomentofhappiness，tellyoumine;andyoushalltellmeinreturnwhethertheconclusionofthetaleIhaveinventedformylifeispossible。Tomewealthwouldbringgreaterhappinessthantoothermen;forthehighesthappinessIcanimaginewouldbetoenrichtheoneIloved。

You，mademoiselle，whoknowsomanythings，tellmeifitispossibleforamantomakehimselfbelovedindependentlyofhisperson，beithandsomeorugly，andforhisspiritonly？"

ModesteraisedhereyesandlookedatButscha。Itwasapiercingandquestioningglance;forshesharedDumay’ssuspicionofButscha’smotive。

"Letmeberich，andIwillseeksomebeautifulpoorgirl，abandonedlikemyself，whohassuffered，whoknowswhatmiseryis。Iwillwritetoherandconsoleher，andbeherguardianspirit;sheshallreadmyheart，mysoul;sheshallpossessbydoublewealth，mytwowealths，——

mygold，delicatelyoffered，andmythoughtrobedinallthesplendorwhichtheaccidentofbirthhasdeniedtomygrotesquebody。ButI

myselfshallremainhiddenlikethecausethatscienceseeks。Godhimselfmaynotbeglorioustotheeye。Well，naturally，themaidenwillbecurious;shewillwishtoseeme;butIshalltellherthatI

amamonsterofugliness;Ishallpicturemyselfhideous。"

AtthesewordsModestegaveButschaaglancethatlookedhimthroughandthrough。Ifshehadsaidaloud，"Whatdoyouknowofmylove？"shecouldnothavebeenmoreexplicit。

"IfIhavethehonorofbeinglovedforthepoemofmyheart，ifsomedaysuchlovemaymakeawomanthinkmeonlyslightlydeformed，Iaskyou，mademoiselle，shallInotbehappierthanthehandsomestofmen，——ashappyasamanofgeniusbelovedbysomecelestialbeinglikeyourself。"

Thecolorwhichsuffusedtheyounggirl’sfacetoldthecripplenearlyallhesoughttoknow。

"Well，ifthatbeso，"hewenton，"ifweenrichtheonewelove，ifwepleasethespiritandwithdrawthebody，isnotthatthewaytomakeone’sselfbeloved？Atanyrateitisthedreamofyourpoordwarf，——adreamofyesterday;forto—dayyourmothergivesmethekeytofuturewealthbypromisingmethemeansofbuyingapractice。ButbeforeIbecomeanotherGobenheim，Iseektoknowwhetherthisdreamcouldbereallycarriedout。Whatdoyousay，mademoiselle，YOU？"

Modestewassoastonishedthatshedidnotnoticethequestion。Thetrapoftheloverwasmuchbetterbaitedthanthatofthesoldier，forthepoorgirlwasrenderedspeechless。

"PoorButscha！"whisperedMadameLatournelletoherhusband。"Doyouthinkheisgoingmad？"

"YouwanttorealizethestoryofBeautyandtheBeast，"saidModesteatlength;"butyouforgetthattheBeastturnedintoPrinceCharming。"

"Doyouthinkso？"saidthedwarf。"NowIhavealwaysthoughtthatthattransformationmeantthephenomenonofthesoulmadevisible，obliteratingtheformunderthelightofthespirit。IfIwerenotlovedIshouldstayhidden，thatisall。Youandyours，madame，"hecontinued，addressinghismistress，"insteadofhavingadwarfatyourservice，willnowhavealifeandafortune。"

Sosaying，Butscharesumedhisseat，remarkingtothethreewhist—

playerswithanassumptionofcalmness，"Whosedealisit？"butwithinhissoulhewhisperedsadlytohimself:"Shewantstobelovedforherself;shecorrespondswithsomepretendedgreatman;howfarhasitgone？"

"Dearmamma，itisnearlyteno’clock，"saidModeste。

MadameMignonsaidgood—nighttoherfriends，andwenttobed。

TheywhowishtoloveinsecretmayhavePyreneanhounds，mothers，Dumays，andLatournellestospyuponthem，andyetnotbeinanydanger;butwhenitcomestoalover！——ah！thatisdiamondcutdiamond，flameagainstflame，mindtomind，anequationwhosetermsaremutual。

OnSundaymorningButschaarrivedattheChaletbeforeMadameLatournelle，whoalwayscametotakeModestetochurch，andheproceededtoblockadethehouseinexpectationofthepostman。

"HaveyoualetterforMademoiselleMignon？"hesaidtothathumblefunctionarywhenheappeared。

"No，monsieur，none。"

"Thishousehasbeenagoodcustomertothepostoflate，"remarkedtheclerk。

"Youmaywellsaythat，"repliedtheman。

Modestebothheardandsawthelittlecolloquyfromherchamberwindow，whereshealwayspostedherselfbehindtheblindsatthisparticularhourtowatchforthepostman。Sherandownstairs，wentintothelittlegarden，andcalledinanimperativevoice:——

"MonsieurButscha！"

"HereamI，mademoiselle，"saidthecripple，reachingthegateasModesteherselfopenedit。

"Willyoubegoodenoughtotellmewhetheramongyourvarioustitlestoawoman’saffectionyoucountthatoftheshamelessspyinginwhichyouarenowengaged？"demandedthegirl，endeavoringtocrushherslavewiththeglanceandgestureofaqueen。

"Yes，mademoiselle，"heansweredproudly。"Ah！Ineverexpected，"hecontinuedinalowtone，"thatthegrubcouldbeofservicetoastar，——butsoitis。WouldyouratherthatyourmotherandMonsieurDumayandMadameLatournellehadguessedyoursecretthanone，excludedasitwerefromlife，whoseekstobetoyouoneofthoseflowersthatyoucutandwearforamoment？Theyallknowyoulove;butI，Ialone，KNOWHOW。Usemeasyouwouldavigilantwatch—dog;Iwillobeyyou，protectyou，andneverbark;neitherwillIcondemnyou。Iaskonlytobeofservicetoyou。YourfatherhasmadeDumaykeeperofthehen—

roost，takeButschatowatchoutside，——poorButscha，whodoesn’taskforanything，notsomuchasabone。"

"Well，I’vegiveyouatrial，"saidModeste，whosestrongestdesirewastogetridofsocleverawatcher。"PleasegoatoncetoallthehotelsinGravilleandinHavre，andaskifagentlemanhasarrivedfromEnglandnamedMonsieurArthur——"

"Listentome，mademoiselle，"saidButscha，interruptingModesterespectfully。"Iwillgoandtakeawalkontheseashore，foryoudon’twantmetogotochurchto—day;that’swhatitis。"

Modestelookedatherdwarfwithaperfectlystupidastonishment。

"Mademoiselle，youhavewrappedyourfaceincotton—woolandasilkhandkerchief，butthere’snothingthematterwithyou;andyouhaveputthatthickveilonyourbonnettoseesomeoneyourselfwithoutbeingseen。"

"Wheredidyouacquireallthatperspicacity？"criedModeste，blushing。

"Moreover，mademoiselle，youhavenotputonyourcorset;acoldintheheadwouldn’tobligeyoutodisfigureyourwaistandwearhalfadozenpetticoats，norhideyourhandsintheseoldgloves，andyourprettyfeetinthosehideousshoes，nordressyourselflikeabeggar—

woman，nor——"

"That’senough，"shesaid。"HowamItobecertainthatyouwillobeyme？"

"MymasterisobligedtogotoSainte—Adresse。Hedoesnotlikeit，butheissotrulygoodhewon’tdeprivemeofmySunday;Iwilloffertogoforhim。"

"Go，andIwilltrustyou。"

"YouaresureIcandonothingforyouinHavre？"

"Nothing。Hearme，mysteriousdwarf，——look，"shecontinued，pointingtothecloudlesssky;"canyouseeasingletraceofthatbirdthatflewbyjustnow？No;wellthen，myactionsarepureastheairispure，andleavenostainbehindthem。YoumayreassureDumayandtheLatournelles，andmymother。Thathand，"shesaid，holdingupaprettydelicatehand，withthepointsoftherosyfingers，throughwhichthelightshone，slightlyturningback，"willneverbegiven，itwillneverevenbekissedbywhatpeoplecallaloveruntilmyfatherhasreturned。"

"Whydon’tyouwantmeinthechurchto—day？"

"DoyouventuretoquestionmeafterallIhavedoneyouthehonortosay，andtoaskofyou？"

Butschabowedwithoutanotherword，anddepartedtofindhismaster，inalltheraptureofbeingtakenintotheserviceofhisgoddess。

Halfanhourlater，MonsieurandMadameLatournellecametofetchModeste，whocomplainedofahorribletoothache。

"Ireallyhavenothadthecouragetodressmyself，"shesaid。

"Wellthen，"repliedtheworthychaperone，"stayathome。"

"Oh，no！"saidModeste。"Iwouldrathernot。Ihavebundledmyselfup，andIdon’tthinkitwilldomeanyharmtogoout。"

AndMademoiselleMignonmarchedoffbesideLatournelle，refusingtotakehisarmlestsheshouldbequestionedabouttheoutwardtremblingwhichbetrayedherinwardagitationatthethoughtofatlastseeinghergreatpoet。Onelook，thefirst，——wasitnotabouttodecideherfate？

CHAPTERXIII

AFULL—LENGTHPORTRAITOFMONSIEURDELABRIERE

Isthereinthelifeofmanamoredelightfulmomentthanthatofafirstrendezvous？Arethesensationsthenhiddenatthebottomofourheartsandfindingtheirfirstexpressioneverrenewed？Canwefeelagainthenamelesspleasuresthatwefeltwhen，likeErnestdeLaBriere，welookedupoursharpestrazors，ourfinestshirt，anirreproachablecollar，andourbestclothes？Wedeifythegarmentsassociatedwiththatall—suprememoment。Weweavewithinuspoeticfanciesquiteequaltothoseofthewoman;andthedaywheneitherpartyguessesthemtheytakewingstothemselvesandflyaway。Arenotsuchthingsliketheflowerofwildfruits，bitter—sweet，grownintheheartofaforest，thejoyofthescantsun—rays，thejoy，asCanalissaysinthe"Maiden’sSong，"oftheplantitselfwhoseeyesunclosingseeitsownimagewithinitsbreast？

Suchemotions，nowtakingplaceinLaBriere，tendtoshowthat，likeotherpoorfellowsforwhomlifebeginsintoilandcare，hehadneveryetbeenloved。ArrivingatHavreovernight，hehadgonetobedatonce，likeatruecoquette，toobliteratealltracesoffatigue;andnow，aftertakinghisbath，hehadputhimselfintoacostumecarefullyadaptedtoshowhimofftothebestadvantage。Thisis，perhaps，therightmomenttoexhibitafull—lengthportraitofhim，ifonlytojustifythelastletterthatModestewasstilltowritetohim。

BornofagoodfamilyinToulouse，andalliedbymarriagetotheministerwhofirsttookhimunderhisprotection，Ernesthadthatairofgood—breedingwhichcomesofaneducationbeguninthecradle;andthehabitofmanagingbusinessaffairsgavehimacertainsedatenesswhichwasnotpedantic，——thoughpedantryisthenaturaloutgrowthofprematuregravity。Hewasofordinaryheight;hisface，whichwonuponallwhosawhimbyitsdelicacyandsweetness，waswarmintheflesh—

tints，thoughwithoutcolor，andrelievedbyasmallmoustacheandimperialalaMazarin。Withoutthisevidenceofvirilityhemighthaveresembledayoungwomanindisguise，sorefinedwastheshapeofhisfaceandthecutofhislips，sofemininethetransparentivoryofasetofteeth，regularenoughtohaveseemedartificial。Addtothesewomanlypointsahabitofspeechasgentleastheexpressionoftheface;asgentle，too，astheblueeyeswiththeirTurkisheyelids，andyouwillreadilyunderstandhowitwasthattheministeroccasionallycalledhisyoungsecretaryMademoiselledeLaBriere。Thefull，clearforehead，wellframedbyabundantblackhair，wasdreamy，anddidnotcontradictthecharacteroftheface，whichwasaltogethermelancholy。

Theprominentarchoftheuppereyelid，thoughverybeautifullycut，overshadowedtheglanceoftheeye，andaddedaphysicalsadness，——ifwemaysocallit，——producedbythedroopofthelidovertheeyeball。

Thisinwarddoubtoreclipse——whichisputintolanguagebythewordmodesty——wasexpressedinhiswholeperson。Perhapsweshallbeabletomakehisappearancebetterunderstoodifwesaythatthelogicofdesignrequiredgreaterlengthintheovalofhishead，morespacebetweenthechin，whichendedabruptly，andtheforehead，whichwasreducedinheightbythewayinwhichthehairgrew。Thefacehad，inshort，arathercompressedappearance。Hardworkhadalreadydrawnfurrowsbetweentheeyebrows，whichweresomewhattoothickandtooneartogether，likethoseofajealousnature。ThoughLaBrierewasthenslight，hebelongedtotheclassoftemperamentswhichbegin，aftertheyarethirty，totakeonanunexpectedamountofflesh。

TheyoungmanwouldhaveseemedtoastudentofFrenchhistoryaveryfairrepresentativeoftheroyalandalmostinconceivablefigureofLouisXIII。，——thathistoricalfigureofmelancholymodestywithoutknowncause;pallidbeneaththecrown;lovingthedangersofwarandthefatiguesofhunting，buthatingwork;timidwithhismistresstotheextentofkeepingawayfromher;soindifferentastoallowtheheadofhisfriendtobecutoff，——afigurethatnothingcanexplainbuthisremorseforhavingavengedhisfatheronhismother。WasheaCatholicHamlet，ormerelythevictimofincurabledisease？Buttheundyingwormwhichgnawedattheking’svitalswasinErnest’scasesimplydistrustofhimself，——thetimidityofamantowhomnowomanhadeversaid，"Ah，howIlovethee！"and，aboveall，thespiritofself—devotionwithoutanobject。Afterhearingtheknellofthemonarchyinthefallofhispatron’sministry，thepoorfellowhadnextfallenuponarockcoveredwithexquisitemosses，namedCanalis;

hewas，therefore，stillseekingapowertolove，andthisspaniel—

likesearchforamastergavehimoutwardlytheairofakingwhohasmetwithhis。Thisplayoffeeling，andageneraltoneofsufferingintheyoungman’sfacemadeitmorereallybeautifulthanhewashimselfawareof;forhehadalwaysbeenannoyedtofindhimselfclassedbywomenamongthe"handsomedisconsolate，"——aclasswhichhaspassedoutoffashioninthesedays，wheneverymanseekstoblowhisowntrumpetandputhimselfintheadvance。

Theself—distrustfulErnestnowrestedhisimmediatehopesonthefashionableclothesheintendedtowear。Heputon，forthissacredinterview，whereeverythingdependedonafirstimpression，apairofblacktrousersandcarefullypolishedboots，asulphur—coloredwaistcoat，whichlefttosightanexquisitelyfineshirtwithopalbuttons，ablackcravat，andasmallbluesurtoutcoatwhichseemedgluedtohisbackandshouldersbysomenewly—inventedprocess。TheribbonoftheLegionofhonorwasinhisbuttonhole。Heworeawell—

fittingpairofkidglovesoftheFlorentinebronzecolor，andcarriedhiscaneandhatinthelefthandwithagestureandairthatwasworthyoftheGrandMonarch，andenabledhimtoshow，asthesacredprecinctsrequired，hisbareheadwiththelightfallingonhiscarefullyarrangedhair。Hestationedhimselfbeforetheservicebeganinthechurchporch，fromwhencehecouldexaminethechurch，andtheChristians——moreparticularlythefemaleChristians——whodippedtheirfingersintheholywater。

AninwardvoicecriedtoModesteassheentered，"Itishe！"Thatsurtout，andindeedthewholebearingoftheyoungmanwereessentiallyParisian;theribbon，thegloves，thecane，theveryperfumeofhishairwerenotofHavre。SowhenLaBriereturnedabouttoexaminethetallandimposingMadameLatournelle，thenotary，andthebundled—up（expressionsacredtowomen）figureofModeste，thepoorchild，thoughshehadcarefullytutoredherselffortheevent，receivedaviolentblowonherheartwhenhereyesrestedonthispoeticfigure，illuminatedbythefulllightofdayasitstreamedthroughtheopendoor。Shecouldnotbemistaken;asmallwhiterosenearlyhidtheribbonoftheLegion。Wouldherecognizehisunknownmistressmuffledinanoldbonnetwithadoubleveil？Modestewassoinfearoflove’sclairvoyancethatshebegantostoopinherwalklikeanoldwoman。

"Wife，"saidlittleLatournelleastheytooktheirseats，"thatgentlemandoesnotbelongtoHavre。"

"Somanystrangerscomehere，"answeredhiswife。

"But，"saidthenotary，"strangersnevercometolookatachurchlikeours，whichislessthantwocenturiesold。"

Ernestremainedintheporchthroughouttheservicewithoutseeinganywomanwhorealizedhishopes。Modeste，onherpart，couldnotcontrolthetremblingofherlimbsuntilMasswasnearlyover。Shewasinthegraspofajoythatnonebutsheherselfcoulddepict。Atlastsheheardthefoot—fallofagentlemanonthepavementoftheaisle。Theserviceover，LaBrierewasmakingacircuitofthechurch，wherenoonenowremainedbutthepunctiliouslypious，whomheproceededtosubjecttoashrewdandkeenanalysis。Ernestnoticedthataprayer—

bookshookviolentlyinthehandsofaveiledwomanashepassedher;

asshealonekeptherfacehiddenhissuspicionswerearoused，andthenconfirmedbyModeste’sdress，whichthelover’seyenowscannedandnoted。HeleftthechurchwiththeLatournellesandfollowedthematadistancetotherueRoyale，wherehesawthementerahouseaccompaniedbyModeste，whosecustomitwastostaywithherfriendstillthehourofvespers。Afterexaminingthelittlehouse，whichwasornamentedwithscutcheons，heaskedthenameoftheowner，andwastoldthathewasMonsieurLatournelle，thechiefnotaryinHavre。AsErnestloungedalongtherueRoyalehopingforaglimpseintothehouse，Modestecaughtsightofhim，andthereupondeclaredherselftooilltogotovespers。PoorErnestthushadhistroubleforhispains。

HedarednotwanderaboutIngouville;moreover，hemadeitapointofhonortoobeyorders，andhethereforewentbacktoParis，previouslywritingaletterwhichFrancoiseCochetdulydeliveredonthemorrowwiththeHavrepostmark。

ItwasthecustomofMonsieurandMadameLatournelletodineattheChaleteverySundaywhentheybroughtbackModesteaftervespers。So，assoonastheinvalidfeltalittlebetter，theystartedforIngouville，accompaniedbyButscha。Onceathome，thehappyModesteforgotherpretendedillnessandherdisguise，anddressedherselfcharmingly，hummingasshecamedowntodinner，——

"Noughtissleeping——Heart！awaking，Liftthineincensetotheskies。"

Butschashudderedslightlywhenhecaughtsightofher，sochangeddidsheseemtohim。Thewingsoflovewerefastenedtohershoulders;shehadtheairofanymph，aPsyche;hercheeksglowedwiththedivinecolorofhappiness。

"Whowrotethewordstowhichyouhaveputthatprettymusic？"askedhermother。

"Canalis，mamma，"sheanswered，flushingrosyredfromherthroattoherforehead。

"Canalis！"criedthedwarf，towhomtheinflectionsofthegirl’svoiceandherblushtoldtheonlythingofwhichhewasstillignorant。"He，thatgreatpoet，doeshewritesongs？"

"Theyareonlysimpleverses，"shesaid，"whichIhaveventuredtosettoGermanairs。"

"No，no，"interruptedMadameMignon，"themusicisyourown，mydaughter。"

Modeste，feelingthatshegrewmoreandmorecrimson，wentoffintothegarden，callingButschaafterher。

"Youcandomeagreatservice，"shesaid。"Dumayiskeepingasecretfrommymotherandmeastothefortunewhichmyfatherisbringingbackwithhim;andIwanttoknowwhatitis。DidnotDumaysendpapawhenhefirstwentawayoverfivehundredthousandfrancs？Yes。Well，papaisnotthekindofmantostayawayfouryearsandonlydoublehiscapital。Itseemsheiscomingbackonashipofhisown，andDumay’sshareamountstoalmostsixhundredthousandfrancs。"

"ThereisnoneedtoquestionDumay，"saidButscha。"Yourfatherlost，asyouknow，aboutfourmillionswhenhewentaway，andhehasdoubtlessrecoveredthem。HewouldofcoursegiveDumaytenpercentofhisprofits;theworthymanadmittedtheotherdayhowmuchitwas，andmymasterandIthinkthatinthatcasethecolonel’sfortunemustamounttosixorsevenmillions——"

"Oh，papa！"criedModeste，crossingherhandsonherbreastandlookinguptoheaven，"twiceyouhavegivenmelife！"

"Ah，mademoiselle！"saidButscha，"youloveapoet。ThatkindofmanismoreorlessofaNarcissus。Willheknowhowtoloveyou？A

phrase—maker，alwaysbusyinfittingwordstogether，mustbeabore。

Mademoiselle，apoetisnomorepoetrythanaseedisaflower。"

"Butscha，Ineversawsohandsomeaman。"

"Beautyisaveilwhichoftenservestohideimperfections。"

"Hehasthemostangelicheartofheaven——"

"IprayGodyoumayberight，"saidthedwarf，claspinghishands，"——andhappy！Thatmanshallhave，asyouhave，aservantinJeanButscha。Iwillnotbenotary;Ishallgivethatup;Ishallstudythesciences。"

"Why？"

"Ah，mademoiselle，totrainupyourchildren，ifyouwilldeigntomakemetheirtutor。But，oh！ifyouwouldonlylistentosomeadvice。

Letmetakeupthismatter;letmelookintothelifeandhabitsofthisman，——findoutifheiskind，orbad—tempered，orgentle，ifhecommandstherespectwhichyoumeritinahusband，ifheisabletoloveutterly，preferringyoutoeverything，evenhisowntalent——"

"WhatdoesthatsignifyifIlovehim？"

"Ah，true！"criedthedwarf。

AtthatinstantMadameMignonwassayingtoherfriends，——

"Mydaughtersawthemanshelovesthismorning。"

"Thenitmusthavebeenthatsulphurwaistcoatwhichpuzzledyouso，Latournelle，"saidhiswife。"Theyoungmanhadaprettywhiteroseinhisbuttonhole。"

"Ah！"sighedthemother，"thesignofrecognition。"

"AndhealsoworetheribbonofanofficeroftheLegionofhonor。Heisacharmingyoungman。Butwearealldeceivingourselves;Modesteneverraisedherveil，andherclotheswerehuddledonlikeabeggar—

woman’s——"

"Andshesaidshewasill，"criedthenotary;"butshehastakenoffhermufflingsandisjustaswellassheeverwas。"

"Itisincomprehensible！"saidDumay。

"Notatall，"saidthenotary;"itisnowasclearasday。"

"Mychild，"saidMadameMignontoModeste，asshecameintotheroom，followedbyButscha，"didyouseeawell—dressedyoungmanatchurchthismorning，withawhiteroseinhisbutton—hole？"

"Isawhim，"saidButschaquickly，perceivingbyeverybody’sstrainedattentionthatModestewaslikelytofallintoatrap。"ItwasGrindot，thefamousarchitect，withwhomthetownisintreatyfortherestorationofthechurch。HehasjustcomefromParis，andImethimthismorningexaminingtheexteriorasIwasonmywaytoSainte—

Adresse。"

"Oh，anarchitect，washe？hepuzzledme，"saidModeste，forwhomButschahadthusgainedtimetorecoverherself。

DumaylookedaskanceatButscha。Modeste，fullywarned，recoveredherimpenetrablecomposure。Dumay’sdistrustwasnowthoroughlyaroused，andheresolvedtogothemayor’sofficeearlyinthemorningandascertainifthearchitecthadreallybeeninHavrethepreviousday。

Butscha，ontheotherhand，wasequallydeterminedtogotoParisandfindoutsomethingaboutCanalis。

Gobenheimcametoplaywhist，andbyhispresencesubduedandcompressedallthisfermentationoffeelings。Modesteawaitedhermother’sbedtimewithimpatience。Sheintendedtowrite，butneverdidsoexceptatnight。Hereistheletterwhichlovedictatedtoherwhilealltheworldwassleeping:——

ToMonsieurdeCanalis，——Ah！myfriend，mywell—beloved！Whatatrociousfalsehoodsthoseportraitsintheshop—windowsare！AndI，whomadethathorriblelithographmyjoy！——Iamhumbledatthethoughtoflovingonesohandsome。No;itisimpossiblethatthoseParisianwomenaresostupidasnottohaveseentheirdreamsfulfilledinyou。Youneglected！youunloved！Idonotbelieveawordofallthatyouhavewrittenmeaboutyourlonelyandobscurelife，yourhungerforanidol，——soughtinvainuntilnow。Youhavebeentoowellloved，monsieur;yourbrow，whiteandsmoothasamagnolialeaf，revealsit;anditisIwhomustbeneglected，——forwhoamI？Ah！whyhaveyoucalledmetolife？Ifeltforamomentasthoughtheheavyburdenofthefleshwasleavingme;mysoulhadbrokenthecrystalwhichhelditcaptive;itpervadedmywholebeing;thecoldsilenceofmaterialthingshadceased;allthingsinnaturehadavoiceandspoketome。Theoldchurchwasluminous。It’sarchedroof，brilliantwithgoldandazurelikethoseofanItaliancathedral，sparkledabovemyhead。Melodiessuchastheangelssangtomartyrs，quietingtheirpains，soundedfromtheorgan。TheroughpavementsofHavreseemedtomyfeetaflowerymead;theseaspoketomewithavoiceofsympathy，likeanoldfriendwhomIhadnevertrulyunderstood。Isawclearlyhowtherosesinmygardenhadlongadoredmeandbiddenmelove;theyliftedtheirheadsandsmiledasIcamebackfromchurch。Iheardyourname，"Melchior，"chimingintheflower—bells;Isawitwrittenontheclouds。Yes，yes，Ilive，Iamliving，thankstothee，——mypoet，morebeautifulthanthatcold，conventionalLordByron，withafaceasdullastheEnglishclimate。Oneglanceofthine，thineOrientglance，piercedthroughmydoubleveilandsentthybloodtomyheart，andfromthencetomyheadandfeet。

Ah！thatisnotthelifeourmothergaveus。Ahurttotheewouldhurtmetooattheveryinstantitwasgiven，——mylifeexistsbythythoughtonly。Iknownowthepurposeofthedivinefacultyofmusic;theangelsinventedittoutterlove。Ah，myMelchior，tohavegeniusandtohavebeautyistoomuch;amanshouldbemadetochoosebetweenthemathisbirth。

WhenIthinkofthetreasuresoftendernessandaffectionwhichyouhavegivenme，andmoreespeciallyforthelastmonth，IaskmyselfifIdream。No，butyouhidesomemystery;whatwomancanyieldyouuptomeandnotdie？Ah！jealousyhasenteredmyheartwithlove，——loveinwhichIcouldnothavebelieved。HowcouldI

haveimaginedsomightyaconflagration？Andnow——strangeandinconceivablerevulsion！——Iwouldratheryouwereugly。

WhatfolliesIcommittedafterIcamehome！Theyellowdahliasremindedmeofyourwaistcoat，thewhiterosesweremylovingfriends;Ibowedtothemwithalookthatbelongedtoyou，likeallthatisofme。Theverycolorofthegloves，mouldedtohandsofagentleman，yourstepalongthenave，——all，all，issoprintedonmymemorythatsixtyyearshenceIshallseetheveriesttriflesofthisdayofdays，——thecoloroftheatmosphere，therayofsunshinethatflickeredonacertainpillar;Ishallheartheprayeryourstepinterrupted;Ishallinhaletheincenseofthealtar;foreverIshallfeelaboveourheadsthepriestlyhandsthatblessedusbothasyoupassedbymeattheclosingbenediction。ThegoodAbbeMarcelinmarriedusthen！Thehappiness，abovethatofearth，whichIfeelinthisnewworldofunexpectedemotionscanonlybeequalledbythejoyoftellingittoyou，ofsendingitbacktohimwhopoureditintomyheartwiththelavishnessofthesunitself。Nomoreveils，nomoredisguises，mybeloved。Comebacktome，oh，comebacksoon。WithjoyInowunmask。

YouhavenodoubtheardofthehouseofMignoninHavre？Well，I

am，throughanirreparablemisfortune，itssoleheiress。Butyouarenottolookdownuponus，descendantofanAuvergneknight;

thearmsoftheMignondeLaBastiewilldonodishonortothoseofCanalis。Webeargules，onabendsablefourbezantsor;

quarterlyfourcrossespatriarchalor;acardinal’shatascrest，andthefiocchiforsupports。Dear，Iwillbefaithfultoourmotto:"Unafides，unusDominus！"——thetruefaith，andoneonlyMaster。

Perhaps，myfriend，youwillfindsomeironyinmyname，afterallthatIhavedone，andallthatIhereinavow。IamnamedModeste。

ThereforeIhavenotdeceivedyoubysigning"O。d’EsteM。"

NeitherhaveImisledyouaboutourfortune;itwillamount，I

believe，tothesumwhichrenderedyousovirtuous。Iknowthattoyoumoneyisaconsiderationofsmallimportance;thereforeI

speakofitwithoutreserve。Letmetellyouhowhappyitmakesmetogivefreedomofactiontoourhappiness，——tobeabletosay，whenthefancyfortraveltakesus，"Come，letusgoinacomfortablecarriage，sittingsidebyside，withoutathoughtofmoney"——happy，inshort，totelltheking，"Ihavethefortunewhichyourequireinyourpeers。"ThusModesteMignoncanbeofservicetoyou，andhergoldwillhavethenoblestofuses。

Astoyourservantherself，——youdidseeheronce，atherwindow。

Yes，"thefairestdaughterofEvethefair"wasindeedyourunknowndamozel;buthowlittletheModesteofto—dayresemblesherofthatlongpastera！Thatonewasinhershroud，thisone——

haveImadeyouknowit？——hasreceivedfromyouthelifeoflife。