sideration--this law, so
singularly clear-sighted, which will not allow an unsound horse to
increase the species--this law will not loosen the victim of a union
such as we have described. These bonds are sacred, indissoluble: it is
to offend God and man to break them. In truth," continued Rodolph, "men
sometimes display a humility most shameful and an egotistical pride
which is only execrable. He values himself at less than the beast which
he protects by warranties which he refuses for himself; and he imposes
on himself, makes sacred, and perpetuates his most distressing
infirmities by putting them under the protection of the immutability of
laws, human and divine." Rodolph greatly blamed M. d'Harville, but he
promised to himself to excuse him in the eyes of Clemence, although
fully persuaded, after her sad disclosure, that the marquis was for ever
alienated from her heart. One thought led to another, and Rodolph said
to himself, "I have kept aloof from a woman I love, and who, perhaps,
already feels a secret inclination for me. Either from an attachment of
heart or friendship, she has bestowed her honour--her life--for the sake
of a fool whom she thought unhappy. If, instead of leaving her, I had
paid her all sorts of attentions, love, and consideration, my name would
have been such that her reputation would not have received the slightest
stain, the suspicions of her husband would never have been excited:
whilst, now, she is all but at the mercy of such an ass as M. Charles
Robert, who, I fear, will become the more indiscreet in proportion as he
has the less right to be so. And then, too, who knows if, in spite of
the dangers she has risked, the heart of Madame d'Harville will always
remain free? Any return to her husband is henceforward impossible.
Young, handsome, courted, with a disposition sympathising with all who
suffer, what dangers, what shoals and quicksands, lie before her! For M.
d'Harville, what anguish and what deep chagrin! At the same time jealous
of and in love with his wife, who cannot subdue the disgust and fright
which he excited in her on their nuptials,--what a lot is his!"

Clemence, with her forehead hidden by her hands, her eyes brimful of
tears, and her cheek reddened by embarrassment, avoided Rodolph's look,
such pain had the disclosure cost her.

"Ah, now," said Rodolph, after a long silence, "I can understand the
cause of M. d'Harville's sadness, which I could not before account for.
I can