"Then listen to me. You have long ceased to excite in my breast any feelings beyond those of friendship. Still, at two-and-twenty you may well fear the temptations you mentioned yesterday, and, alas! no one is more exposed to them than yourself, for with shame and sorrow I confess that my conduct towards you, if it be not capable of authorising, is at least perfectly calculated to extenuate, your faults."
"Can you for an instant suppose——"
"Give me leave to complete what I was saying. If I have still the right of being (as I confess I am) horribly jealous as far as my pride is concerned, that is to say, of all external appearances, all outward demonstrations of regard for another, I am aware I have unfortunately lost all claim to restrain or govern the impulses of your heart. My own infidelity and unkindness have naturally chilled your affections towards myself, and I have no claim even to inquire who is the fortunate object who engrosses them. Nothing could be at once more positively unjust, as well as absurd, than for me to hope or expect that, at your young age, your heart should remain dead and insensible to love."
Bertha gazed on her husband with stupor.
"The only stipulation I consider myself entitled to make," continued he, "and that is one I should most rigidly exact, is that my dear friend will, in every outward attention to decorum, most scrupulously respect the honour of my name, as she could possibly do were we linked together in the bonds of the most tender love. In fact, I consider that your public life is my affair, inasmuch as you are known and recognised as my wife. The career of your heart is henceforward a sealed book for me, since I have forfeited all right or control over it. You appear astonished at my words, but reflect a little, recall our yesterday's conversation, and you will find that I then expressed myself in almost similar terms, differing merely in tone and manner, the matter precisely the same. But, to finish our present discourse, understand me, that from the present day you will enjoy the most perfect and uncontrolled liberty—be your own mistress in every respect—we are henceforward, if not legally, at least virtually, separated. But for the very reason that this absolute and unrestricted freedom must naturally lead you to the very extreme limit of propriety, so much the more scrupulous must you be not to transgress any outward duty; for I tell you again, in the same proportion as I shall be tolerant and indulgent where merely the heart is concerned, so will you find me rigid and mercilessly severe as regards all the acknowledged convenances of society. And now, my dear, I will leave you to meditate on what you have heard—from this day forward our relative positions are distinctly defined. It is most probable that I should have required this mutual forbearance as regards the affections of the heart long before yourself. However, this is not the time to divulge the secrets we may possibly each be fancying secure within the recesses of our own bosoms, and I shall shortly claim the indulgent hearing of my kind friend while I unfold a little tendresse of my own. By the way, talking of indulgences, that reminds me that I have to beg leave not only to absent myself, but also your pardon for leaving you quite alone. In a few days' time I shall depart on a short but most important journey."
"You going, Charles, and at the present time?"
"I shall be absent but a very short period, a fortnight at the longest, and, as I before said, upon most urgent business; but in the meanwhile I intrust you with the affair for which I am anxious to engage the interest of Madame de Hansfeld, fully persuaded it could not be in safer or surer hands. So fare ye well for the present. Mind and call up all your beauty as you mingle in the gay world, for, if I have lost the insatiate vanity of the lover, I still retain that of the husband!"
So saying M. de Brévannes touched the forehead of Bertha with his lips and went out. He had restrained himself long enough, and too long for his patience. When alone he gave full vent to the rage and fury which knew no bounds. The varied emotions so legibly depicted on the ingenuous countenance of Bertha while her husband was speaking, the sort of involuntary joy (of which she seemed almost instantly ashamed, though unable to conceal it) with which she heard the announcement of her future independence, her vague apprehensions, her hopes by turns awakened and restrained, all served to enlighten M. de Brévannes as to the state of Bertha's heart.
He could not be mistaken—she loved. He was far too experienced in such matters to entertain the least doubt on the subject.
He had, then, a rival, and his wife was deceiving him.