Part 3 (1/2)

This happy day at length arrived. The couple had just been married and Frederic, in the intoxication of happiness, held his wife in his arms. He was seated near the mantel-piece. The crackling of the fire and the play of the flames caused him to tremble. By a strange freak of memory, he thought of the day on which for the first time he had sat thus with Bernerette, near the mantel-piece in a little bedroom. Those, whose imagination is pleased to admit that man hastens ever toward the accomplishment of his fate, may comment as they please on this strange fact. At this moment a letter with the Paris postmark was handed to Frederic, announcing the death of Bernerette. I need not paint his astonishment nor his grief. I must content myself with placing before the reader's eye the poor girl's farewell to her friend. Here in a few lines written in that style, half gay, half sad, which was peculiar to her, you will find the explanation of her conduct: ”Alas! Frederic, you well knew it was but a dream. We could not live quietly and be happy. I wanted to leave here. I received a visit from a young man whom I had met in the country, in the time of my glory; he was madly in love with me at Bordeaux. I am unaware from whom he had obtained my address. He came and threw himself at my feet as if I were still the queen of the stage. He offered me his fortune, which was not much, and his heart, which was nothing at all.

It was the day after you left me, saying that you were going away. You will remember. I was none too happy, my dear, and I hardly knew where to dine. I allowed myself to be led, but unfortunately I could not adhere to it. I had sent my slippers to his rooms. I sent for them and decided to die.

”Yes, my dear, I wished to leave you there. I could not live as an apprentice.

However, the second time I made up my mind. But your father called on me again: that is something you did not know. What could I say to him? I promised to forget you and returned to my admirer. Ah! How tired I was of it all! Is it my fault that all men appear ugly and foolish to me since I have loved you?

But I can not live on memories. What do you think I could do?

”I do not kill myself; I do but finish a task already begun: it is not a great murder that I commit. My health is poor, forever gone. All this would be nothing if it were not for ennui. I am told you are about to marry; is she beautiful? Good-by, good-by. Remember, when it is fine, the day that you watered your flowers. Oh! how quickly I learned to love you! On seeing you I started and became pale. I have been very happy with you. Good-by.

”If your father had not wished it, we would never have parted. But you had no money, that is the misfortune. Neither had I. If I had gone to a laundry I could never have stayed there; so what were we to do? I have now tried twice to begin anew but I am successful in nothing.

”I a.s.sure you that it is not from madness that I take my life: I am in full possession of all my mental faculties. My parents (may G.o.d forgive them) have come back again. If you only knew what they want to do with me! It is too disgusting to be the plaything of misery and to be annoyed to such an extent.

When we loved each other, if we had been more economical it would have been better. But you insisted on our going to the theater and amusing ourselves. We have spent many a happy evening at La Chaumiere.

”Good-by, my dear, for the last time, good-by. If I had been in better health I would have gone back to the stage, but I can breathe and that is all. Never reproach yourself on account of my death. I feel that, had it been in your power to avert it, nothing would have happened. I felt it, but dared not say it. I saw whither events were drifting, but did not wish to worry you.

”It is a sad night on which I write to you and sadder, I a.s.sure you, than that on which you came and rang the bell and found me out. I had never thought you jealous. When I knew you were angry, I was both sorry and pleased. Why did you not wait for me? You would have seen the expression on my face when I returned from my adventure. But it is nothing, you loved me more than you admitted.