THE GROVE, 10th May, 18—.[6]
It is eleven o'clock; I have just left Madame de Fersen. Here am I in the chalet, which, henceforward, I am to occupy near her!
I experience a strange emotion.
Events have succeeded each other with such rapidity, my heart has been torn by such conflicting passions, that I feel the necessity of reviewing my memories, my desires, and my hopes.
I therefore resume my journal, interrupted after my departure from Khios.
My thoughts press so confusedly upon my brain that I hope to clear them by writing. I act like those who, unable to make a mental calculation, are obliged to have recourse to pencil and paper.
What for me will be the end of this love? Doctor Ralph has formally declared to Madame de Fersen that, for a long time yet, my presence is indispensable to Irene's perfect recovery, and that, for two or three months longer, it was absolutely necessary to soothe the child's imagination, and not give her the slightest shock or the least sorrow, these emotions being the more dangerous for her in that they were so profoundly concentrated.
Doctor Ralph attributes the attraction which I have for Irene to magnetic and mysterious affinities and he cites many examples, both among human beings and animals. He is unable, however, to offer any explanation of this. As I said, this attraction places me in a singular position.
The effect of my presence or absence upon this child is a proven and undeniable fact. For the past year Irene has had three or four attacks, sometimes slight, others serious and almost fatal, whose sole origin was her grief at not seeing me, and, above all, at not seeing me near her mother; for the nurse has since told me that even our meetings at the Tuileries did not quite satisfy Irene, who pined for the time spent on board the frigate.
My presence, therefore, is, one may say, the tie that binds Irene to life.