He made his health a pretext for delay, saying that he felt weak
and wished to send in his resignation as deputy. She induced him only by
her urgent prayer to content himself with asking leave of absence.

"But you, my beloved!" he said, "I am condemning you to a sad existence!"

"With you," she replied, "I am happy everywhere and always!"

It was not true that she was happy, but it was true that she loved him
and was devoted to him. There was no suffering she would not have
resigned herself to, no sacrifice she would not make, were it for him.

From this moment the prospect of worldly sovereignty, which she thought
she had touched with her hand, escaped her. She had a presentiment of a
melancholy future of solitude, of renunciation, of secret tears; but near
him grief became a fete. One knows with what rapidity life passes with
those who busy themselves without distraction in some profound grief--the
days themselves are long, but the succession of them is rapid and
imperceptible. It was thus that the months and then the seasons succeeded
one another, for Camors and the Marquise, with a monotony that left
hardly any trace on their thoughts. Their daily relations were marked, on
the part of the Count with an invariably cold and distant courtesy, and
very often silence; on the part of the Marquise by an attentive
tenderness and a constrained grief. Every day they rode out on horseback,
both clad in black, sympathetic by their beauty and their sadness, and
surrounded in the country by distant respect. About the beginning of the
ensuing winter Madame de Campvallon experienced a serious disquietude.
Although M. de Camors never complained, it was evident his health was
gradually failing. A dark and almost clayey tint covered his thin cheeks,
and spread nearly to the whites of his eyes. The Marquise showed some
emotion on perceiving it, and persuaded him to consult a physician. The
physician perceived symptoms of chronic debility. He did not think it
dangerous, but recommended a season at Vichy, a few hygienic precautions,
and absolute repose of mind and body.

When the Marquise proposed to Camors this visit to Vichy, he only
shrugged his shoulders without reply.

A few days after, Madame de Campvallon on entering the stable one
morning, saw Medjid, the favorite mare of Camors, white with foam,
panting and exhausted. The groom explained, with some awkwardness, the
condition of the animal, by a ride the Count had taken that