gate closed upon her harshly. As soon as she was alone, she
began to walk swiftly, swiftly, almost to run. She was not merely going
away, she was escaping. Suddenly, when she reached the end of the wall
of the estate, she found herself in front of the little green gate,
surrounded by nasturtiums and honeysuckle, where the chateau mail-box
was. She stopped instinctively, struck by one of those sudden awakenings
of the memory which take place within us at critical moments and place
before our eyes with wonderful clearness of outline the most trivial
acts of our lives bearing any relation to present disasters or joys. Was
it the red sun that suddenly broke forth from the clouds, flooding the
level expanse with its oblique rays in that winter afternoon as at the
sunset hour in August? Was it the silence that surrounded her, broken
only by the harmonious sounds of nature, which are almost alike at all
seasons?

Whatever the cause she saw herself once more as she was, at that same
spot, three years before, on a certain day when she placed in the post
a letter inviting Sidonie to come and pass a month with her in the
country. Something told her that all her misfortunes dated from that
moment. "Ah! had I known--had I only known!" And she fancied that she
could still feel between her fingers the smooth envelope, ready to drop
into the box.

Thereupon, as she reflected what an innocent, hopeful, happy child she
was at that moment, she cried out indignantly, gentle creature that she
was, against the injustice of life. She asked herself: "Why is it? What
have I done?"

Then she suddenly exclaimed: "No! it isn't true. It can not be possible.
Grandfather lied to me." And as she went on toward the station, the
unhappy girl tried to convince herself, to make herself believe what she
said. But she did not succeed.

The truth dimly seen is like the veiled sun, which tires the eyes far
more than its most brilliant rays. In the semi-obscurity which still
enveloped her misfortune, the poor woman's sight was keener than she
could have wished. Now she understood and accounted for certain
peculiar circumstances in her husband's life, his frequent absences, his
restlessness, his embarrassed behavior on certain days, and the abundant
details which he sometimes volunteered, upon returning home, concerning
his movements, mentioning names as proofs which she did not ask. From
all these conjectures the evidence of his sin was made up. And still