features which could not fail to mislead an
unthinking or superficial mind. Her mother had early taught her the
trick of agreeable talk which appears to imply superiority, replying
to arguments by clever jests, and attracting by the graceful volubility
beneath which a woman hides the subsoil of her mind, as Nature disguises
her barren strata beneath a wealth of ephemeral vegetation. Natalie had
the charm of children who have never known what it is to suffer. She
charmed by her frankness, and had none of that solemn air which mothers
impose on their daughters by laying down a programme of behavior and
language until the time comes when they marry and are emancipated. She
was gay and natural, like any young girl who knows nothing of marriage,
expects only pleasure from it, replies to all objections with a jest,
foresees no troubles, and thinks she is acquiring the right to have her
own way.

How could Paul, who loved as men love when desire increases love,
perceive in a girl of this nature whose beauty dazzled him, the woman,
such as she would probably be at thirty, when observers themselves have
been misled by these appearances? Besides, if happiness might prove
difficult to find in a marriage with such a girl, it was not impossible.
Through these embryo defects shone several fine qualities. There is no
good quality which, if properly developed by the hand of an able master,
will not stifle defects, especially in a young girl who loves him. But
to render ductile so intractable a woman, the iron wrist, about which de
Marsay had preached to Paul, was needful. The Parisian dandy was right.
Fear, inspired by love is an infallible instrument by which to manage
the minds of women. Whoso loves, fears; whoso fears is nearer to
affection than to hatred.

Had Paul the coolness, firmness, and judgment required for this
struggle, which an able husband ought not to let the wife suspect? Did
Natalie love Paul? Like most young girls, Natalie mistook for love the
first emotions of instinct and the pleasure she felt in Paul's external
appearance; but she knew nothing of the things of marriage nor
the demands of a home. To her, the Comte de Manerville, a rising
diplomatist, to whom the courts of Europe were known, and one of the
most elegant young men in Paris, could not seem, what perhaps he was,
an ordinary man, without moral force, timid, though brave in some ways,
energetic perhaps in adversity, but helpless against the vexations
a