Marguerite took her lamp and left the room. Blanche closed the door after her.
"Shut your door tight," said the old woman.
"Yes, dear nurse," answered the young girl, and she drew the bolt.
CHAPTER XVI
How Will It End
WHEN one loves ardently, and when one sees that moment approach which heralds the consummation of his dearest wishes, when one is for the first time entirely alone with the beloved of his heart, one experiences an uneasiness, an agitation which one cannot quell, and which one cannot reasonably account for; it is almost as though one feared that one's being would be unable to support the realization of this exquisite happiness, as though one doubted whether hopes so sweet, and which have hitherto been so unattainable, can ever be realized.
It is, above all, when one loves with the candor and good faith of early youth that one yields himself tremblingly to the first interview which sounds a knell to all the cherished past. Why, at the very moment of happiness, should one sigh and fear? Poor mortals, it seems that accustomed to sorrow, we shall always be astonished at being happy. In truth, this astonishment passes with age and experience; then these delightful rendezvous do not cause us the same emotion; we regard them only as distractions, and laugh at the uneasiness, the embarrassment, which accompanied our first intercourse with the ladies. Ungrateful that we are, we mock at the source of our happiness, at those sweet sensations which time has dissipated, with all the other illusions of our youth, after the manner of the fox in the fable.
"How awkward we were at eighteen years of age," we say; "how embarrassed and constrained in a tête-à-tête, trembling like a leaf as we went to the rendezvous; what a difference now, we go to them singing, we reach that which we desire more quickly, we are a hundred times more pleasing." Yes, but our hair is becoming grizzly, our figure has become rotund, and some rather deep lines are imprinted at the corners of our eyes.
If the approach of long-desired happiness causes in love an inexplicable trouble, what should be the state of one who, all of a sudden, without having had even the slightest hope, finds himself in a position where he may obtain the greatest heights. Such was Urbain's situation; he loved Blanche with the delirium, the intoxication, which one experiences at nineteen for his first love, and he found himself at eleven o'clock at night alone with the object of his tenderness in a little chamber, separated from all neighbors, with the lovely child drawing the bolt and beginning to undress herself to go to bed. What lover at such a moment could preserve his reason? Poor Blanche, I tremble for thee! In truth thou hast a talisman, but I have no great faith in its power; above all, if you allow yourself to remain with Urbain in the situation in which he is placed. The young bachelor tremblingly paused, sighing and saying not a word he remained standing in a corner of the room, while Blanche prepared the bed, coming and going, jumping and laughing, and finally began to undress herself.
"O heavens!" said Urbain to himself, trembling, coloring, and lowering his eyes, but raising them from time to time to look at Blanche. "O my God! what must I do. This is not the moment to declare myself, to make known to her who I am, to implore her pardon, and to confess my love to her; but, yes, it is indeed the moment. However, if that confession should frighten her, if her cries should bring somebody here, or if she should drive me from the room. That will be such a pity when I can, by deceiving her a little longer, share her bed, and—oh, no! that would be very ill done! But how pretty she is! great God, how charming! Ah, I will not look at her." And the rascal looked at her all the time, slyly, it is true, but the more he looked at her the more he felt his resolution imperilled; for each moment Blanche took off some part of her costume, already only a little petticoat covered her seductive form, and the straight corset which had imprisoned her pretty figure was laid upon the bed.
Blanche stopped; however, it was time. She looked at Urbain, who was still standing there, motionless and silent.