to it. But his
conscience, seared as it was, had some living fibres in it; and he would
not have failed in the duty he thought he owed to his wife. These
sentiments were composed of a sort of indifference, blended with pity. He
was vaguely sorry for this child, whose existence was absorbed and
destroyed between those of two beings of nature superior to her own; and
he hoped she would always remain ignorant of the fate to which she was
condemned. He resolved never to neglect anything that might extenuate its
rigor; but he belonged, nevertheless, more than ever solely to the
passion which was the supreme crime of his life. For his intrigue with
Madame de Campvallon, continually excited by mystery and danger--and
conducted with profound address by a woman whose cunning was equal to her
beauty--continued as strong, after years of enjoyment, as at first.

The gracious courtesy of M. de Camors, on which he piqued himself, as
regarded his wife, had its limits; as the young Countess perceived
whenever she attempted to abuse it. Thus, on several occasions she
declined receiving guests on the ground of indisposition, hoping her
husband would not abandon her to her solitude. She was in error.

The Count gave her in reality, under these circumstances, a tete-a-tete
of a few minutes after dinner; but near nine o'clock he would leave her
with perfect tranquillity. Perhaps an hour later she would receive a
little packet of bonbons, or a pretty basket of choice fruit, that would
permit her to pass the evening as she might. These little gifts she
sometimes divided with her neighbor, Madame Jaubert; sometimes with M. de
Vautrot, secretary to her husband.

This M. de Vautrot, for whom she had at first conceived an aversion, was
gradually getting into her good graces. In the absence of her husband she
always found him at hand; and referred to him for many little details,
such as addresses, invitations, the selection of books and the purchase
of furniture. From this came a certain familiarity; she began to call him
Vautrot, or "My good Vautrot," while he zealously performed all her
little commissions. He manifested for her a great deal of respectful
attention, and even refrained from indulging in the sceptical sneers
which he knew displeased her. Happy to witness this reform and to testify
her gratitude, she invited him to remain on two or three evenings when he
came to take his leave, and talked with him of books and the theatres.

Whe