Epistolary fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Married women -- Fiction
"Infuse with passion, then, if you will, this friendship, and let the
voice of love disturb its calm. On my part I will do what I can to bring
my feelings into accord with yours. One thing, above all, I would beg
of you. Spare me the annoyances to which the strangeness of our mutual
position might give rise to our relations with others. I am neither
whimsical nor prudish, and should be sorry to get that reputation; but
I feel sure that I can trust to your honor when I ask you to keep up the
outward appearance of wedded life."
Never, dear, have I seen a man so happy as my proposal made Louis. The
blaze of joy which kindled in his eyes dried up the tears.
"Do not fancy," I concluded, "that I ask this from any wish to be
eccentric. It is the great desire I have for your respect which prompts
my request. If you owe the crown of your love merely to the legal and
religious ceremony, what gratitude could you feel to me later for a
gift in which my goodwill counted for nothing? If during the time that I
remained indifferent to you (yielding only a passive obedience, such as
my mother has just been urging on me) a child were born to us, do you
suppose that I could feel towards it as I would towards one born of our
common love? A passionate love may not be necessary in marriage, but, at
least, you will admit that there should be no repugnance. Our position
will not be without its dangers; in a country life, such as ours will
be, ought we not to bear in mind the evanescent nature of passion? Is it
not simple prudence to make provision beforehand against the calamities
incident to change of feeling?"
He was greatly astonished to find me at once so reasonable and so apt at
reasoning; but he made me a solemn promise, after which I took his hand
and pressed it affectionately.
We were married at the end of the week. Secure of my freedom, I was able
to throw myself gaily into the petty details which always accompany a
ceremony of the kind, and to be my natural self. Perhaps I may have been
taken for an old bird, as they say at Blois. A young girl, delighted
with the novel and hopeful situation she had contrived to make for
herself, and may have passed for a strong-minded female.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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