“Say good-bye,” said Pepa, fixing a tender gaze on the child and the man who held her.
Leon held the little girl in a close embrace and kissed her again and again; such demonstrations of affection, he reflected, could hardly be deemed a scandal when bestowed on this angel-baby. He carried her up and down the room two or three times to conceal the emotion which, rebelling against every moral effort, was too legible in his face; and though he did not glance at the mother, she, sitting in her corner, might be sure that he was conscious of her presence. Passion has the keenest sight, and wonderful skill in discovering the thoughts of the object of its devotion, in assimilating them and extracting nutriment from this exciting but ethereal food.
As to the unhappy man himself, never had he so deeply felt as at this moment the irresistible charm of this sweet little creature—the child of a woman who was not his wife, and of a man whom he detested. He felt as if it would be impossible to part from this treasure and live—not that it was his, though he had accustomed himself to regard it as very much his own. His love for the child was as inseparable from the image of its mother as two stars that give but one light. It was an adopted affection which usurped in his solitary soul the vacant hearth and warming fire that ought to have been for another. Was it his fault if in his weary journeying across the waste these two faces smiled upon him, one all dimples and the other all love, brightening the melancholy horizon of life and encouraging him to walk on, even when his strength was failing him, and he stumbled over the stones and thorns. In Pepa he had found affection, gentleness and a confiding nature—a mysterious promise of the peace he had dreamed of, the happiness he had so vainly and so painfully sought. It was the ideal family, with every human element in it except, alas! legitimacy; and the very fact of its being only a vision and not a reality, gave it added enchantment and greater attractions. Pepa’s passionate devotion, and the tenacity which made her give it the pre-eminence over every other feeling, far from causing him any anxiety, altogether bewitched him; he saw in it the offering of her whole heart without reserve, the incalculating generosity which prompts a soul to abandon itself wholly without any concealment, without cloking its faults or veiling a single thought. Those who have been beggars for love cannot repel that which flows in their way, though the tide be too strong and boils and foams. At the same time he felt a sort of pride and pious emotion as he saw that this noble heart, without ceasing to be duteously religious, was nevertheless his, by a supreme law of humanity; and feeling himself so beloved—so completely the lord and master of her thoughts he could do no less than give his heart wholly to her. That secondary and long-past affection that he had known before the dawn of the glory in which they now saw each other faded into nothingness, as the stars do at sunrise.
However, this was not the moment for such reflections. Leon set the child on her mother’s knee and said:
“Not another instant! Good-bye. If I find it necessary to explain your absence to your father I will venture to tell him all about it.”
“I will tell him myself.”
And they precipitately left the room by different doors.