He paused for a moment or two again, and then asked me one or two questions concerning Suzette, to which I replied as clearly, but as briefly, as I could, for I thought it better to change the painful subject for some other as fast as possible, and, having administered the medicine, to let time work out its effect in silence. He seemed, however, to take a pleasure himself in dwelling upon the theme, now that it had once been spoken of between us. "Her whole story," he added, alluding to Suzette, "is so minutely consistent with every circumstance which I remember, that I cannot doubt it in the least. To confess one weakness more, I acknowledge that it is no small comfort to my mind to find every circumstance that deceived me, susceptible of a clear and satisfactory explanation; to see every cloud of doubt wafted away from the remembrance of one who now will live for ever enshrined in my heart, not the less loved, not the less adored, that bitter sorrow for her fate, and deep contrition for my faults, embalm her memory, and wash her tomb with tears." I was delighted to find that what I told produced such an effect; for, to say the truth, I had been like an unskilful physician, and knew not at the time that I administered it, whether the cup which I had presented to Monsieur de Villardin would prove a poison or an antidote. It had evidently become the latter, and I doubted not that every hour which passed would increase its power. I saw, too, that, in some degree, Suzette had shrewdly divined the true state of Monsieur de Villardin's feelings; and that, however much he might be convinced before that he had deeply wronged his wife, his mind would never have rested satisfied till all the mysterious circumstances, which at first aroused his suspicions, had been explained as clearly as they were at present. From the first effect of the tidings I had given, I was led to expect more beneficial results than they afterwards produced. Monsieur de Villardin certainly was calmer from that day forward; the sting of remorse was, as he had said, softened; a part of the load was off his head, but still the deep and bitter melancholy continued. I could see a slight difference--a shade less in the darkness of the gloom that oppressed him, but that was all. He was not so often found sitting alone, immersed in sad and frowning thought. I saw him more frequently with a book in his hand; and events of less importance than heretofore would rouse him into activity and exertion. Yet he was never what can be called cheerful; despondency remained the general character of his mind, and he still seemed to find that relief in moments of danger and excitement, which showed that calm thought was little less painful than heretofore.