"You see," said she, while I was pointing out the carriage to the maid,
so that she might get rid of her impedimenta, "I shall not have my right
mourning until to-morrow "--and now I perceived that her gown was dark
brown and only braided with black--"they could not have the things ready
in time, but will send them as early as possible." Then, as I placed her
in the carriage, she added: "There is still a trunk and a bonnet-box."
She half smiled in saying this, to make me smile too, for the mass of
luggage and the number of small parcels with which she encumbered
herself had been of old a subject of mild quarrel between us. In any
other state of mind I should have been pained to find the unfailing
evidence of her frivolity side by side with the mark of affection she
had given me by coming. Was not this one of the small causes of my great
misery? True, but her frivolity was delightful to me at that moment.
This then was the woman whom I had been picturing to myself as coming to
the house of death, with the sinister purpose of searching my dead
aunt's papers and stealing or destroying any accusing pages which she
might find among them! This was the woman whom I had misrepresented to
myself, that morning, as a criminal steeped in the guilt of a cowardly
murder! Yes! I had been mad! I had been like a runaway horse galloping
after its own shadow. But what a relief to make sure that it was
madness, what a blessed relief! It almost made me forget the dear dead
woman. I was very sad at heart in reality, and yet I was happy, while we
were rattling through the town in the old coupé, past the long lines of
lighted windows. I held my mother's hand; I longed to beg her pardon, to
kiss the hem of her dress, to tell her again and again that I loved and
revered her. She perceived my emotion very plainly; but she attributed
it to the affliction that had just befallen me, and she condoled with
me. She said, "My André," several times. How rare it was for me to have
her thus, all my own, and just in that mood of feeling for which my sick
heart pined!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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