me, I swear to you it was the first time I had ever given it to him. If he began with a joke in sending me a kiss across the street, his affection since then has never, as you know, gone beyond the strictest bounds; but I may tell you who can read my soul—save for the corner which is kept for the angels’ eyes—that this feeling is the element of many a merit to me; it has enabled me to accept my misfortunes, it has perhaps softened the bitterness of the irreparable loss which I mourn by my dress rather than in my heart! Oh! I have been wrong! Yes, love in me was stronger than my gratitude toward my godfather, and God has avenged him. How could it be helped! I respected myself as Savinien’s future wife; I was too proud, and it may be that God has punished that pride. God alone, as you have told me, ought to be the beginning and the end of our actions.”
The curé was touched at the tears rolling down her face, already growing pale. The more the poor girl seemed secure, the more she failed.
“But,” she continued, “once I return to my orphaned condition I shall be able to resume the feelings. After all, could I be a stone round the neck of the man I love? What could he do here? Who am I to aspire to him? Besides, do I not love him with so divine a love that it would go as far as the entire sacrifice of my happiness and hopes?—And you know I have often reproached myself for founding my love upon a grave, for knowing it to be deferred until after this old lady’s death. If
