myself to him; but who in my place would have had the power to
resist him?

Is it not a fact that everybody here loves him? Have I not observed the
looks of all these village girls fixed on him with eager desire? It would
have been easy for him to make his choice among the prettiest, but he has
seen me only.

He is a priest, but what does that matter? is he not a man? And this man as
handsome as a god, I feel that I love him much more than a lover ought to
be loved; for I love not only for the happiness of loving him and being
loved by him, but also from pride, because I am proud of him, because I
admire his fine and noble nature, so open, so sweet, so charming, so
audacious, which, led astray into this false and thankless position, must
find itself so unhappy. Then, I was so affected the first time that my look
met his, I felt that all my being was his, but especially my inward
feelings, my spirit, my soul, and my sentiments.

And in this way there is a great difference in man and in woman in their
love.

In man, possession most frequently causes passion to disappear; the reality
kills the ideal; the awakening, the dream; in woman on the other hand, it
nearly always enhances, for the first time at any rate, the fascination of
being loved, for she attaches herself to him in proportion to the trouble,
the shame, the sacrifice.

For with man, love is but an episode, while with woman it is her whole
life.

LXXVIII.

FALSE ALARM.

"She's there, say'st thou? What, can that be the maid
Whose pure, fresh face attracted me but now,
When I beheld her in her home; alas,
And can the flower so quickly fade?"...

DELPHINE GAY.

Suzanne, who had passed a sleepless night, was fast asleep in the morning,
when her father burst into her room like a hurricane.

She woke with a start, all pale and trembling; she tried nevertheless to
assume the most innocent and the calmest air.

--What is the matter, papa?

But Durand did not answer. He surveyed the room with a scrutinizing eye,
apparently, interrogating the furniture and the walls, as if he were asking
them if they had not been witnesses of some unusual event.

But if walls at times have eyes and ears, they have no tongue; they cannot
relate the things they have seen. Then he turned towards his daughter in
such a singular way that Suzanne dropped her eyes and felt she was going to
faint.

--Suzanne, he demanded of her abruptly, did you hear anythin