She ceased; and, hiding her face with her hands, she gave way to violent emotion. Victorine allowed the first burst to pass away; and then, putting her arm round her, she gently soothed her by kind words, entreating her to listen to her. “Dearest Caliste,” she said, “when I told you the Rosiere’s crown would bring sorrow to our home, you did not believe me. Now that you have painfully learnt this lesson, my sister, surely now you will believe me, when I say I can point out to you a path to peace. Vile as our hearts are by nature, dear Caliste, yet did our Lord God bless the sons of Noah, even though he had just declared that the imagination of man’s heart is evil from his youth. You have done wrong, Caliste, you have sinned grievously; you have been in darkness and in error, and you now feel shame and remorse. My sister, that shame is not of the natural man, it is a gift from God, and He has said, ‘When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I, the Lord, will hear them; I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them. And the work of righteousness shall be peace, and the effect
of righteousness, quietness and assurance for ever. And my people shall dwell in a peaceful habitation, and in sure dwellings, and in quiet resting places.’”
“Ah, Victorine,” she replied, “wherefore is it that you alone can sooth me? wherefore is it, that in listening to you, I hope some day to be at rest?”
“Because,” answered Victorine, “the faith in which I have been reared is one of love, of joy, of peace, of hope. I have been told that the God who has made me, being infinite, must also be perfect in holiness and power. He has promised perfect peace to those whose minds are staid on him. On his word do I rely with full confidence, as the child does upon a parent’s. And as I have learnt, so would I teach you, dear Caliste, that our God is love, and those that turn to Him he will in no wise cast off.”
“Would that I could think as you do!” exclaimed the poor girl; “would that I were a heretic like you, Victorine, and that I might but be permitted to read in that book you have studied from childhood!”
D’Elsac was now aware that the fête had broken up, and the villagers were returning to their homes; and, unwilling to be found where
he was, he left the spot; and, taking a turn, he presently came back to the cottage. He found all the family assembled in the kitchen, when he returned; and he came in just in time to hear Valmont rebuke Lisette severely for her conduct during the day.
She replied with passion and insolence to his displeasure; and the father irritated, again reproved her, commanding her to be silent, and to go up to her chamber. She obeyed him so far as to leave the apartment, taking no heed of Caliste, but muttering out her discontent at the behaviour of her relatives towards her, and she even proceeded to some kind of threat which, for the time, was unnoticed.
Valmont next spoke with some bitterness to Caliste, and then left the apartment in displeasure.
With some difficulty, D’Elsac supported, or rather carried, Caliste to the chamber above; for her father’s words had so grieved her that she was immediately taken worse; and then, leaving her to her mother and Victorine, he left the cottage, unable to sleep, thinking that a walk in the quiet moonlight would do him good.