Part 69 (2/2)

”Oh! since I first sinned, I have known but one moment's happiness--that was when I learned that he no longer refused to take his son in his arms! Poor child! because your mother was guilty, could your father treat you as a stranger all your life? But I solemnly swear that I was without reproach when my son was born, and Henri can safely take him in his arms!”

What I had heard caused me such intense pleasure that I cannot describe it; I had to lean against the window; for joy often takes away all our strength. Luckily Marguerite continued the conversation; they did not hear the movement that I was unable to restrain.

”What makes me hope that Monsieur Blemont may yet forgive you, madame, is the pains that he has taken to conceal your wrongdoing. n.o.body knows anything about it; he alone has incurred all the blame.”

”Oh! he has done that for the honor of his name, for his children; but do not infer from that that he will forgive me. Henri loved me too dearly--and I wrecked his life! No, I entreat you again, never speak to him about me! Let him forget me--but let him love his children! Is not that all that I can ask? Thanks to your kindness--to your compa.s.sion for me--I can at least see him. Hidden in the summer-house which you have given me, I can look into the garden through a hole in the shutters.

Henri often walks there; sometimes I hear his voice, I see him with his children.--Then--oh! madame, such joy and such agony as I feel!--Had I not a place between my children and him?--And I can never occupy it again!”

”Poor Eugenie! Calm yourself, for heaven's sake.”

”Oh, yes! I must restrain my sobs, for I don't want to disturb my children's sleep. I can kiss them every night; that is my sole consolation; but they do not call me their mother any more. Oh! madame, it is ghastly never to hear that name!”

”You could come to see them if you chose. You could send for them to come to you. Monsieur Blemont has never had any idea of depriving you of their caresses.”

”No, I am no longer worthy of them. Besides, they will grow up. What can you reply to children who ask you why you do not live with their father?

It is much better that they should not see me; that they should forget their mother!”

After another interval, filled only by Eugenie's subdued moans, she continued:

”Alas! my heart is torn by still another pang. You have guessed it--you who can read my heart so well, who are so kind to me, and whom I misunderstood and blamed for so long!”

”Hus.h.!.+” said Marguerite, embracing her; ”haven't I forbidden you to mention that again? But I have some good news for you: for some days Monsieur Blemont has been to see Mademoiselle Derbin much less frequently; he pa.s.ses less time with her.”

”He goes there less? Is it possible? Oh! I no longer have any right to be jealous, madame, I know; I have no claim to his heart; and yet I cannot reconcile myself to the thought that he loves another. And this Caroline is so lovely; and then she loves him--I am perfectly sure of that.”

”What makes you think so?”

”Oh! women are never mistaken about such things, you know. I discovered it at Mont-d'Or; I was certain of it when I overheard their conversation on the evening that he left. To be sure, she begged him to come back to me; but her voice trembled, she could hardly restrain her tears. In short, she spoke to him as one speaks to a person whom one loves, even when one is trying to pretend to hate him. Poor Caroline! she had thought that he was free and a bachelor. She had abandoned herself without fear to the pleasure of loving him.”

”Very well; but now when she knows perfectly well that he is married, and above all, when she thinks that it was he who deserted you, why does she bring her uncle here to Saint-Mande, and settle down within two steps of us? Why does she invite Monsieur Blemont to come to see her? Is that the way for a woman to act with a man whom she is determined not to love, whom she is trying to forget? I confess that that has not given me a very favorable opinion of that young lady, and Monsieur Blemont must have noticed more than once that I don't like her, although I don't know her.”

”What can you expect? She still loves him--she longed to see him again.

But if only he might not love her! Since I have seen him every day, since, thanks to you, I have been living so near him, I have indulged in illusions; I have fancied sometimes that I still reigned in his heart; and the awakening is very bitter!--No, I am nothing more than a stranger now; I can never recover the place that I once filled in his heart.

Others must have his love.”

”Why forbid us to speak to him of you sometimes?”

”Oh! never, never, I implore you! My children speak of me to him; I often hear them ask about their mother. If he is deaf to their voices, do you think that he will be moved by yours? Wait until he himself--but he will never ask what has become of me!”

”I cannot believe that he has entirely forgotten you.--But it is late; you must go; it is time for you to be in bed.”

Marguerite took the light, while Eugenie went to look at her children and kiss them once more. But Marguerite led her away and they both left the room, closing the door with great caution.

I listened to their footsteps for a few seconds, until I could no longer hear them. Then I left my hiding-place, and I too kissed my children, but with a keener delight than usual; and, taking equal precautions to make no noise, I returned to my room. The conversation that I had overheard was engraved on my memory, and my course was already resolved upon, my plan of action formed.

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