to me not to reply. I promised
all, with some surprise that he should consider it necessary to exact
such a pledge.

Nevertheless, the first thing I did when I was able to leave my room was
to visit my mistress. I found her alone, seated in the corner of her
room, with an expression of sorrow on her face and an appearance of
general disorder in her surroundings. I overwhelmed her with violent
reproaches; I was intoxicated with despair. In a paroxysm of grief I fell
on the bed and gave free course to my tears.

"Ah! faithless one! wretch!" I cried between my sobs, "you knew that it
would kill me. Did the prospect please you? What have I done to you?"

She threw her arms around my neck, saying that she had been tempted, that
my rival had intoxicated her at that fatal supper, but that she had never
been his; that she had abandoned herself in a moment of forgetfulness;
that she had committed a fault but not a crime; but that if I would not
pardon her, she, too, would die. All that sincere repentance has of
tears, all that sorrow has of eloquence, she exhausted in order to
console me; pale and distraught, her dress deranged, her hair falling
over her shoulders, she kneeled in the middle of her chamber; never have
I seen anything so beautiful, and I shuddered with horror as my senses
revolted at the sight.

I went away crushed, scarcely able to direct my tottering steps. I wished
never to see her again; but in a quarter of an hour I returned. I do not
know what desperate resolve I had formed; I experienced a full desire to
know her mine once more, to drain the cup of tears and bitterness to the
dregs, and then to die with her. In short I abhorred her, yet I idolized
her; I felt that her love was ruin, but that to live without her was
impossible. I mounted the stairs like a flash; I spoke to none of the
servants, but, familiar with the house, opened the door of her chamber.

I found her seated calmly before her toilette-table, covered with jewels;
she held in her hand a piece of red crepe which she passed gently over
her cheeks. I thought I was dreaming; it did not seem possible that this
was the woman I had left, just fifteen minutes before, overwhelmed with
grief, abased to the floor; I was as motionless as a statue. She, hearing
the door open, turned her head and smiled:

"Is it you?" she said.

She was going to a ball and was expecting my rival. As she recognized me,
she compressed her lips and frowned.

I starte