less, her
shoulders and arms bare, in the rain, her eyes fixed on the way by
which I had gone. Perhaps I am mad to think that. Perhaps it was only
a feeling of pity. But no, it was something more than pity, for do you
know what she did the next morning? She came at five o'clock, in the
most frightful weather, to see me pass with the regiment--and then--the
way she bade me adieu--oh, my friend, my dear old friend!"

"But then," said the poor Cure, completely bewildered, completely at a
loss, "but then, I do not understand you at all. If you love her, Jean,
and if she loves you?"

"But that is, above all, the reason why I must go. If it were only I, if
I were certain that she has not perceived my love, certain that she has
not been touched by it, I would stay, I would stay--for nothing but for
the sweet joy of seeing her, and I would love her from afar, without
any hope, for nothing but the happiness of loving her. But no, she has
understood too well, and far from discouraging me--that is what forces
me to go."

"No, I do not understand it! I know well, my poor boy, we are speaking
of things in which I am no great scholar, but you are both good, young,
and charming; you love her, she would love you, and you will not!"

"And her money! her money!"

"What matters her money? If it is only that, is it because of her
money that you have loved her? It is rather in spite of her money. Your
conscience, my son, would be quite at peace with regard to that, and
that would suffice."

"No, that would not suffice. To have a good opinion of one's self is not
enough; that opinion must be shared by others."

"Oh, Jean! Among all who know you, who can doubt you?"

"Who knows? And then there is another thing besides this question of
money, another thing more serious and more grave. I am not the husband
suited to her."

"And who could be more worthy than you?"

"The question to be considered is not my worth; we have to consider what
she is and what I am, to ask what ought to be her life, and what ought
to be my life."

"One day, Paul--you know he has rather a blunt way of saying things, but
that very bluntness often places thoughts much more distinctly before
us--Paul was speaking of her; he did not suspect anything; if he had, he
is good-natured, he would not have spoken thus--well, he said to me:

"'What she needs is a husband who would be entirely devoted to her,
to her alone, a husband who would have no other care than to