low in all her movements, became
as active as a Parisian, and we started in a body to pay a visit at
Frapesle which the countess did not owe. She forced herself to talk to
Madame de Chessel, who was fortunately discursive in her answers. The
count and Monsieur de Chessel conversed on business. I was afraid the
former might boast of his carriage and horses; but he committed no such
solecisms. His neighbor questioned him about his projected improvements
at the Cassine and the Rhetoriere. I looked at the count, wondering if
he would avoid a subject of conversation so full of painful memories
to all, so cruelly mortifying to him. On the contrary, he explained how
urgent a duty it was to better the agricultural condition of the canton,
to build good houses and make the premises salubrious; in short, he
glorified himself with his wife's ideas. I blushed as I looked at
her. Such want of scruple in a man who, on certain occasions, could be
scrupulous enough, this oblivion of the dreadful scene, this adoption of
ideas against which he had fought so violently, this confident belief in
himself, petrified me.

When Monsieur de Chessel said to him, "Do you expect to recover your
outlay?"

"More than recover it!" he exclaimed, with a confident gesture.

Such contradictions can be explained only by the word "insanity."
Henriette, celestial creature, was radiant. The count was appearing
to be a man of intelligence, a good administrator, an excellent
agriculturist; she played with her boy's curly head, joyous for him,
happy for herself. What a comedy of pain, what mockery in this drama;
I was horrified by it. Later in life, when the curtain of the world's
stage was lifted before me, how many other Mortsaufs I saw without the
loyalty and the religious faith of this man. What strange, relentless
power is it that perpetually awards an angel to a madman; to a man of
heart, of true poetic passion, a base woman; to the petty, grandeur;
to this demented brain, a beautiful, sublime being; to Juana, Captain
Diard, whose history at Bordeaux I have told you; to Madame de
Beauseant, an Ajuda; to Madame d'Aiglemont, her husband; to the Marquis
d'Espard, his wife! Long have I sought the meaning of this enigma. I
have ransacked many mysteries, I have discovered the reason of many
natural laws, the purport of some divine hieroglyphics; of the meaning
of this dark secret I know nothing. I study it as I would the form of an
Indian weapon, the symbolic