fession would not be better than
silence; but courage failed him, pride closed his lips.
"What should be the matter?" he said. "If my face is sad, it does not
indicate faithfully what I feel; for what I feel at this moment is an
ineffable sentiment of tenderness for you, an inexpressible gratitude
for your love, and for the happiness that you have given me. If I have
been happy in my rough and struggling life, it is through you. What I
have had of joy, confidence, hope, memories, I owe to you; and if we
had not met I should have the right to say that I have been the most
miserable among the miserable. Whatever happens to us, remember these
words, my darling, and bury them in the depths of your heart, where you
will find them some day when you would judge me."
"To judge you--I!"
"You love me, therefore you do not know me. But the hour will come when
you will wish to know exactly the man whom you have loved; when that
time comes remember this evening."
"It is too radiant for me to forget it."
"Whatever it may be, remember it. Life is so fragile and so ephemeral a
thing, that it is beautiful to be able to concentrate it, to sum it up
by remembrance, in one hour that marks it and gives it its scope.
Such an hour is this one, which passes while I speak to you with deep
sincerity."
Phillis was not accustomed to these 'elanas', for, in the rare effusions
to which he sometimes abandoned himself, Saniel always observed a
certain reserve, as if he feared to commit himself, and to let her read
his whole nature. Many times he rallied her when she became sentimental,
as he said, and "chantait sa romance;" and now he himself sang it--this
romance of love.
Great as was her happiness to listen to him, she could not help
feeling an uneasy astonishment, and asked herself under what melancholy
impression he found himself at this moment.
He read her too well not to divine this uneasiness. Not wishing to
betray himself, he brought a smile to his eyes, and said:
"You do not recognize me, do you? I am sure you are asking yourself if I
am not ill."
"Oh, dearest, do not jest, and do not harden yourself against the
sentiment that makes such sweet music on your lips! I am happy, so
happy, to hear you speak thus, that I would like to see your happiness
equal to mine; to dissipate the dark cloud that veils your glance. Will
you never abandon yourself? At this hour, above all, when everything
sings and laughs within us as abou
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