to reign at Clochegourde; her children, well trained
and now in health, gave her no anxiety,--where, then, did this grief
they talked of come from?

Thus he argued and discussed the matter, mingling his expressions of
despair with senseless accusations. Then, recalled by some sudden memory
to the admiration which he felt for his wife, tears rolled from his eyes
which had been dry so long.

Madeleine came to tell me that her mother was ready. The Abbe Birotteau
followed me. Madeleine, now a grave young girl, stayed with her father,
saying that the countess desired to be alone with me, and also that the
presence of too many persons would fatigue her. The solemnity of
this moment gave me that sense of inward heat and outward cold which
overcomes us often in the great events of life. The Abbe Birotteau, one
of those men whom God marks for his own by investing them with sweetness
and simplicity, together with patience and compassion, took me aside.

"Monsieur," he said, "I wish you to know that I have done all in my
power to prevent this meeting. The salvation of this saint required it.
I have considered her only, and not you. Now that you are about to see
her to whom access ought to have been denied you by the angels, let me
say that I shall be present to protect you against yourself and perhaps
against her. Respect her weakness. I do not ask this of you as a priest,
but as a humble friend whom you did not know you had, and who would fain
save you from remorse. Our dear patient is dying of hunger and thirst.
Since morning she is a victim to the feverish irritation which precedes
that horrible death, and I cannot conceal from you how deeply she
regrets life. The cries of her rebellious flesh are stifled in my
heart--where they wake echoes of a wound still tender. But Monsieur de
Dominis and I accept this duty that we may spare the sight of this moral
anguish to her family; as it is, they no longer recognize their star by
night and by day in her; they all, husband, children, servants, all
are asking, 'Where is she?'--she is so changed! When she sees you, her
regrets will revive. Lay aside your thoughts as a man of the world,
forget its vanities, be to her the auxiliary of heaven, not of earth.
Pray God that this dear saint die not in a moment of doubt, giving voice
to her despair."

I did not answer. My silence alarmed the poor confessor. I saw, I heard,
I walked, and yet I was no longer on the earth. The thought, "In wha