Epistolary fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Married women -- Fiction
Oh! Renee, the silence which reigns in this valley would bring joy to
the dead! One is awakened by the birds singing or the breeze rustling in
the poplars. A little spring, discovered by the architect in digging the
foundations of the wall, trickles down the hillside over silvery sand
to the lake, between two banks of water-cress, hugging the edge of the
woods. I know nothing that money can buy to equal it.
May not Gaston come to loathe this too perfect bliss? I shudder to think
how complete it is, for the ripest fruits harbor the worms, the most
gorgeous flowers attract the insects. Is it not ever the monarch of the
forest which is eaten away by the fatal brown grub, greedy as death?
I have learned before now that an unseen and jealous power attacks
happiness which has reached perfection. Besides, this is the moral of
all your preaching, and you have been proved a prophet.
When I went, the day before yesterday, to see whether my last whim had
been carried out, tears rose to my eyes; and, to the great surprise of
my architect, I at once passed his account for payment.
"But, madame," he exclaimed, "your man of business will refuse to pay
this; it is a matter of three hundred thousand francs." My only reply
was to add the words, "To be paid without question," with the bearing of
a seventeenth-century Chaulieu.
"But," I said, "there is one condition to my gratitude. No human being
must hear from you of the park and buildings. Promise me, on your honor,
to observe this article in our contract--not to breathe to a soul the
proprietor's name."
Now, can you understand the meaning of my sudden journeys, my mysterious
comings and goings? Now, do you know whither those beautiful things,
which the world supposes to be sold, have flown? Do you perceive the
ultimate motive of my change of investment? Love, my dear, is a vast
business, and they who would succeed in it should have no other.
Henceforth I shall have no more trouble from money matters; I have taken
all the thorns out of my life, and done my housekeeping work once for
all with a vengeance, so as never to be troubled with it again, except
during the daily ten minutes which I shall devote to my old major-domo
Philippe. I have made a study of life and its sharp curves; there came
a day when death also gave me harsh lessons. Now I want to turn all this
to account. My one occupation will be to please _him_ and love _him_, to
brighten with variety what to common mortals is monotonously dull.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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