My brother! I had not really known him! I never should know him. Oh, the anguish of that thought. The fault had been on my side, for he in his affection had made many advances. The hope of putting an end to the misunderstanding between us never left him. Even quite lately certain words of his showed his fondness for me. But I had always repulsed him—he was shy, in spite of his handsome energetic appearance—by my arrogance and coldness.
Why had I decreed, ever since I was sixteen, that it was absurd for men to kiss, and at our next meeting had put out my hand to stop his customary greeting?
How many times, it was more like a hundred than one, he must have been grieved by my harshness and indifference before having resigned himself to it. And had he ever resigned himself to it?
Was it necessary that he should fall, to bring me to repentance. Alas! If only he could have seen me now, me the egoist, pouring out bitter, precious tears for him, the first for ten years.
I seemed to have been born anew to the deeper human feelings. Access to a sublime region was given back to me. My heart, which had been shrivelled and hardened for so long, softened and expanded. In a transport of generosity I tried to think who there was still left for me to love on earth.
The thought of my sister-in-law occurred to me first. I knew that, in her great love for Victor, she would have welcomed me as a brother as eagerly as she had welcomed a father. It was I again who had discouraged her advances. I reproached myself for it. I foresaw the hope of atoning for it. This death would create certain duties for me. Madeleine had lost her parents, she had no relations except a married sister at Versailles. When once my father had gone, I should be the head of the family, the children's natural guardian.
I thought of the little things' future. I would look after Xavier's education, and guide him towards a fine career. And I saw the little girl grow up. We would let her marry where her heart led her.
I thought of my father with reverence too. Our sorrow drew us nearer to each other. I imagined him being abandoned by his strength, when he heard the news. My courage and my pity would support him without humiliating him. I even dreamt that his love, robbed of its object, would end by being concentrated entirely upon me. Was it only a fancy? I remembered his clasp, and his voice which changed when we bid each other farewell.
Thus my thoughts strayed to each of my dear ones. I paused at each vision to enjoy it. But it seemed to me that behind them all another was hiding, undecided whether to appear or not! Suddenly a light shone forth ... a silhouette rose up, of a child, slim and fair, with a grave sweet smile, and tender eyes. It was such a dazzling apparition that I thought of adorning it and setting it up as a secret goddess in the inmost depths of my being to preside over my regeneration.
I tried to sweep aside the idol, to dispel the nimbus of illusions.... What did an exchange of post-cards, as a continuation of our talks in the holidays, signify?