Part 45 (1/2)
”To talk to him too much ... while you're in your present frame of mind.
If you're feeling unhappy, dear, about one thing or another ... speak to Addie.”
”I've spoken to him so often.”
”Confide in him.”
”I have.”
”And not ... not in Johan Erzeele.”
Mathilde's eyes blazed:
”Mamma ... you haven't the right!”
”Yes, dear, I _have_! I not only have the right to tell you this as Addie's mother, but above all I have the right because I understand you, because I am able to understand you, because I remember my own wretchedly unhappy years of despair, as a young married woman, unsatisfied, unhappy, desperate, though for other reasons, alas, than those between you and Addie!... Because I remember all this, Mathilde, because I can never forget, just because I remember, because I now remember how I used to talk ... to Papa while I was married to my poor old husband ... how I used to talk to Papa ... and try to find consolation in those talks ... and how we worked ourselves up with those talks until ... oh, Mathilde, oh, Mathilde, let me tell you all about it!... Let me tell you all about it, quite simply, even though you know, so that I may have the right to speak to you. I used to talk to Papa ...
and we fell in love with each other ... we _thought_ we loved each other....”
”And, if you thought so, why didn't you?”
”Because it wasn't true, dear, because it wasn't a burning fire of feeling, because it was an unreal feeling, arising from unreal words between a young woman and a young man until ... until all those talks drove them into each other's arms ... and the awful thing became irrevocable.”
”Mamma!”
”I am telling you everything, dear....”
”I know everything, Mamma. But you say you used to have unreal talks with Papa.”
”Yes.”
”I talk _simply_ to Johan.”
”My dear, my dear, it's not that. I, I myself was unreal ... in those days ... in my feelings, which came out of books which I had read. Papa used to answer ... out of those same books. You ... you are different: you _are_ simple; Erzeele, a friend of your childhood, is simple, a simple-minded fellow; your talks are bound to be different.”
”Our talks are simple.”
”But, when I came in, I saw that you were talking confidentially, intimately, intimately and eagerly ... and that he was holding your hand, holding your two hands.”
”Yes, you saw that: he was consoling me.”
”That's exactly what he mustn't do. That's exactly what he mustn't be allowed to do. Oh, Mathilde, I am an old woman and I am your mother, especially now that you have no mother of your own, and I am Addie's mother ... and I understand, I understand everything ... because I myself have suffered so much....”
”Addie's coming downstairs, Mamma.”
”Promise me, dear ... to be careful.”
”I ... I will be careful.”
”And forgive me, forgive me for everything that I have dared to say.