ve
with his regiment for the artillery practice. He will lead the life of a
soldier. Ten days' march on the highroad going and returning, and ten
days in the camp at Cercottes in the forest of Orleans. The regiment will
return to Souvigny on the 10th of August.
Jean is no longer tranquil; Jean is no longer happy. He sees approach
with impatience, and at the same time with terror, the moment of his
departure. With impatience--for he suffers an absolute martyrdom, he
longs to escape from it; with terror--for to pass twenty days without
seeing her, without speaking to her, without her in a word--what will
become of him? Her! It is Bettina; he adores her!
Since when? Since the first day, since that meeting in the month of May
in the Cure's garden. That is the truth; but Jean struggles against and
resists that truth. He believes that he has only loved Bettina since the
day when the two chatted gayly, amicably, in the little drawing-room. She
was sitting on the blue couch near the widow, and, while talking, amused
herself with repairing the disorder of the dress of a Japanese princess,
one of Bella's dolls, which she had left on a chair, and which Bettina
had mechanically taken up.
Why had the fancy come to Miss Percival to talk to him of those two young
girls whom he might have married? The question of itself was not at all
embarrassing to him. He had replied that, if he had not then felt any
taste for marriage, it was because his interviews with these two girls
had not caused him any emotion or any agitation. He had smiled in
speaking thus, but a few minutes after he smiled no more. This emotion,
this agitation, he had suddenly learned to know them. Jean did not
deceive himself; he acknowledged the depth of the wound; it had
penetrated to his very heart's core.
Jean, however, did not abandon himself to this emotion. He said to
himself:
"Yes, it is serious, very serious, but I shall recover from it."
He sought an excuse for his madness; he laid the blame on circumstances.
For ten days this delightful girl had been too much with him, too much
with him alone! How could he resist such a temptation? He was intoxicated
with her charm, with her grace and beauty. But the next day a troop of
visitors would arrive at Longueval, and there would be an end of this
dangerous intimacy. He would have courage; he would keep at a distance;
he would lose himself in the crowd, would see Bettina less often and less
familiarly. To s
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