She devoted her hours of leisure to reading again and again the few books she had brought from her school, and she almost knew them by heart.
Once or twice, without divulging her purpose, she had persuaded Janille, who held the strings of the common purse, to give her the money intended for a new gown. But on these occasions it happened that Jean needed shoes, or that some poor people near by had no clothes for their children; and Gilberte supplied what she called the most urgent needs, postponing the purchase of her books to better days.
The curé of Cuzion had lent her an Abridgment of some of the Fathers of the Church, and the Lives of the Saints, upon which she had feasted for a long time; for, when you have no choice, you compel your mind to enjoy serious things, despite the youthful impulse to indulge in less austere amusements.
This necessity is sometimes a salutary thing for healthy minds, and when Gilberte artlessly lamented her ignorance to Emile, he was astonished to find her, on the contrary, so well informed as to certain fundamental matters which he himself had accepted on the faith of others, without studying them.
Love and enthusiasm aiding, he speedily discovered that Gilberte was an accomplished young woman, and proclaimed her, in his own mind, the most intelligent and most perfect of human creatures; and it was relatively true. The greatest and best of mortals is the one who is most sympathetic with us, who understands us best, who is best able to develop and nourish the best qualities of our mind; in a word, the one who would make our life most blissful and complete if our lives could be absolutely blended.
"Ah! I have done well to keep my heart empty and my mind pure hitherto," said Emile to himself, "and I thank thee, O God, for having assisted me! for surely this is the woman who was destined for me, and without whom I should simply have vegetated and suffered."
While talking on general subjects, Gilberte allowed her regret at being deprived of books to appear, and Emile speedily divined that regret was deeper than she cared to reveal to Janille.
He reflected sorrowfully that there was not a single volume in his father's house except commercial and industrial treatises, and that, expecting to return to Poitiers, he had left there what few books he owned.
But Gilberte suggested that there was a very extensive library at Boisguilbault. Jean had done some work long ago in a large room full of books, and it was much to be regretted that the families were at odds, for she might have taken advantage of the proximity of such a treasure.
At this juncture, Janille, who always knitted as she walked, raised her head.