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.Up to that moment she had never had to blush for any action.Passion and curiosity triumphed.As she read each sentence herheart swelled more and more, and the keen glow which filled herbeing as she did so, only made the joys of first love still moreprecious.My dear Annette, Nothing could ever have separated us but thegreat misfortune which has now overwhelmed me, and which nohumanforesight could have prevented.My father has killed himself; hisfortune and mine are irretrievably lost.I am orphaned at an agewhen, through the nature of my education, I am still a child; andyet I must lift myself as a man out of the abyss into which I amplunged.I have just spent half the night in facing my position.If I wish to leave France an honest man, and there is no doubt ofthat, I have not a hundred francs of my own with which to try myfate in the Indies or in America.Yes, my poor Anna, I must seekmy fortune in those deadly climates.Under those skies, they tellme, I am sure to make it.As for remaining in Paris, I cannot doso.Neither my nature nor my face are made to bear the affronts,the neglect, the disdain shown to a ruined man, the son of abankrupt! Good God! think of owing two millions! I should bekilled in a duel the first week; therefore I shall not returnthere.Your love the most tender and devoted love which everennobled the heart of man cannot draw me back.Alas! mybeloved,I have no money with which to go to you, to give and receive alast kiss from which I might derive some strength for my forlornenterprise."Poor Charles! I did well to read the letter.I have gold; I will giveit to him," thought Eugenie. She wiped her eyes, and went on reading.I have never thought of the miseries of poverty.If I have thehundred louis required for the mere costs of the journey, I havenot a sou for an outfit.But no, I have not the hundred louis, noteven one louis.I don't know that anything will be left after Ihave paid my debts in Paris.If I have nothing, I shall go quietlyto Nantes and ship as a common sailor; and I will begin in the newworld like other men who have started young without a sou andbrought back the wealth of the Indies.During this long day I havefaced my future coolly.It seems more horrible for me than foranother, because I have been so petted by a mother who adoredme,so indulged by the kindest of fathers, so blessed by meeting, onmy entrance into life, with the love of an Anna! The flowers oflife are all I have ever known.Such happiness could not last.Nevertheless, my dear Annette, I feel more courage than a carelessyoung man is supposed to feel, above all a young man used to thecaressing ways of the dearest woman in all Paris, cradled infamily joys, on whom all things smiled in his home, whose wisheswere a law to his father oh, my father! Annette, he is dead!Well, I have thought over my position, and yours as well.I havegrown old in twenty-four hours.Dear Anna, if in order to keep mewith you in Paris you were to sacrifice your luxury, your dress,your opera-box, we should even then not have enough for theexpenses of my extravagant ways of living.Besides, I would neveraccept such sacrifices.No, we must part now and forever"He gives her up! Blessed Virgin! What happiness!"Eugenie quivered with joy.Charles made a movement, and a chillof terror ran through her.Fortunately, he did not wake, and sheresumed her reading.When shall I return? I do not know.The climate of the West Indiesages a European, so they say; especially a European who workshard.Let us think what may happen ten years hence.In ten yearsyour daughter will be eighteen; she will be your companion, yourspy.To you society will be cruel, and your daughter perhaps morecruel still.We have seen cases of the harsh social judgment andingratitude of daughters; let us take warning by them.Keep in the depths of your soul, as I shall in mine, the memory of four yearsof happiness, and be faithful, if you can, to the memory of yourpoor friend.I cannot exact such faithfulness, because, do yousee, dear Annette, I must conform to the exigencies of my newlife; I must take a commonplace view of them and do the best Ican.Therefore I must think of marriage, which becomes one of thenecessities of my future existence; and I will admit to you that Ihave found, here in Saumur, in my uncle's house, a cousin whoseface, manners, mind, and heart would please you, and who,besides,seems to me"He must have been very weary to have ceased writing to her,"thought Eugenie, as she gazed at the letter which stopped abruptlyin the middle of the last sentence.Already she defended him.How was it possible that an innocentgirl should perceive the cold-heartedness evinced by this letter? Toyoung girls religiously brought up, whose minds are ignorant andpure, all is love from the moment they set their feet within theenchanted regions of that passion.They walk there bathed in acelestial light shed from their own souls, which reflects its rays upontheir lover; they color all with the flame of their own emotion andattribute to him their highest thoughts.A woman's errors comealmost always from her belief in good or her confidence in truth.InEugenie's simple heart the words, "My dear Annette, my loved one,"echoed like the sweetest language of love; they caressed her soul as,in childhood, the divine notes of the Venite adoremus, repeated bythe organ, caressed her ear.Moreover, the tears which still lingeredon the young man's lashes gave signs of that nobility of heart bywhich young girls are rightly won.How could she know thatCharles, though he loved his father and mourned him truly, wasmoved far more by paternal goodness than by the goodness of hisown heart? Monsieur and Madame Guillaume Grandet, by gratifyingevery fancy of their son, and lavishing upon him the pleasures of alarge fortune, had kept him from making the horrible calculations ofwhich so many sons in Paris become more or less guilty when, faceto face with the enjoyments of the world, they form desires andconceive schemes which they see with bitterness must be put off orlaid aside during the lifetime of their parents.The liberality of thefather in this instance had shed into the heart of the son a real love,in which there was no afterthought of self-interest. Nevertheless, Charles was a true child of Paris, taught by thecustoms of society and by Annette herself to calculate everything;already an old man under the mask of youth.He had gone throughthe frightful education of social life, of that world where in oneevening more crimes are committed in thought and speech thanjustice ever punishes at the assizes; where jests and clever sayingsassassinate the noblest ideas; where no one is counted strong unlesshis mind sees clear: and to see clear in that world is to believe innothing, neither in feelings, nor in men, nor even in events, forevents are falsified.There, to "see clear" we must weigh a friend'spurse daily, learn how to keep ourselves adroitly on the top of thewave, cautiously admire nothing, neither works of art nor gloriousactions, and remember that self-interest is the mainspring of allthings here below.After committing many follies, the great lady thebeautiful Annette compelled Charles to think seriously; with herperfumed hand among his curls, she talked to him of his futureposition; as she rearranged his locks, she taught him lessons ofworldly prudence; she made him effeminate and materialized him,a double corruption, but a delicate and elegant corruption, in thebest taste."You are very foolish, Charles," she would say to him [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.Up to that moment she had never had to blush for any action.Passion and curiosity triumphed.As she read each sentence herheart swelled more and more, and the keen glow which filled herbeing as she did so, only made the joys of first love still moreprecious.My dear Annette, Nothing could ever have separated us but thegreat misfortune which has now overwhelmed me, and which nohumanforesight could have prevented.My father has killed himself; hisfortune and mine are irretrievably lost.I am orphaned at an agewhen, through the nature of my education, I am still a child; andyet I must lift myself as a man out of the abyss into which I amplunged.I have just spent half the night in facing my position.If I wish to leave France an honest man, and there is no doubt ofthat, I have not a hundred francs of my own with which to try myfate in the Indies or in America.Yes, my poor Anna, I must seekmy fortune in those deadly climates.Under those skies, they tellme, I am sure to make it.As for remaining in Paris, I cannot doso.Neither my nature nor my face are made to bear the affronts,the neglect, the disdain shown to a ruined man, the son of abankrupt! Good God! think of owing two millions! I should bekilled in a duel the first week; therefore I shall not returnthere.Your love the most tender and devoted love which everennobled the heart of man cannot draw me back.Alas! mybeloved,I have no money with which to go to you, to give and receive alast kiss from which I might derive some strength for my forlornenterprise."Poor Charles! I did well to read the letter.I have gold; I will giveit to him," thought Eugenie. She wiped her eyes, and went on reading.I have never thought of the miseries of poverty.If I have thehundred louis required for the mere costs of the journey, I havenot a sou for an outfit.But no, I have not the hundred louis, noteven one louis.I don't know that anything will be left after Ihave paid my debts in Paris.If I have nothing, I shall go quietlyto Nantes and ship as a common sailor; and I will begin in the newworld like other men who have started young without a sou andbrought back the wealth of the Indies.During this long day I havefaced my future coolly.It seems more horrible for me than foranother, because I have been so petted by a mother who adoredme,so indulged by the kindest of fathers, so blessed by meeting, onmy entrance into life, with the love of an Anna! The flowers oflife are all I have ever known.Such happiness could not last.Nevertheless, my dear Annette, I feel more courage than a carelessyoung man is supposed to feel, above all a young man used to thecaressing ways of the dearest woman in all Paris, cradled infamily joys, on whom all things smiled in his home, whose wisheswere a law to his father oh, my father! Annette, he is dead!Well, I have thought over my position, and yours as well.I havegrown old in twenty-four hours.Dear Anna, if in order to keep mewith you in Paris you were to sacrifice your luxury, your dress,your opera-box, we should even then not have enough for theexpenses of my extravagant ways of living.Besides, I would neveraccept such sacrifices.No, we must part now and forever"He gives her up! Blessed Virgin! What happiness!"Eugenie quivered with joy.Charles made a movement, and a chillof terror ran through her.Fortunately, he did not wake, and sheresumed her reading.When shall I return? I do not know.The climate of the West Indiesages a European, so they say; especially a European who workshard.Let us think what may happen ten years hence.In ten yearsyour daughter will be eighteen; she will be your companion, yourspy.To you society will be cruel, and your daughter perhaps morecruel still.We have seen cases of the harsh social judgment andingratitude of daughters; let us take warning by them.Keep in the depths of your soul, as I shall in mine, the memory of four yearsof happiness, and be faithful, if you can, to the memory of yourpoor friend.I cannot exact such faithfulness, because, do yousee, dear Annette, I must conform to the exigencies of my newlife; I must take a commonplace view of them and do the best Ican.Therefore I must think of marriage, which becomes one of thenecessities of my future existence; and I will admit to you that Ihave found, here in Saumur, in my uncle's house, a cousin whoseface, manners, mind, and heart would please you, and who,besides,seems to me"He must have been very weary to have ceased writing to her,"thought Eugenie, as she gazed at the letter which stopped abruptlyin the middle of the last sentence.Already she defended him.How was it possible that an innocentgirl should perceive the cold-heartedness evinced by this letter? Toyoung girls religiously brought up, whose minds are ignorant andpure, all is love from the moment they set their feet within theenchanted regions of that passion.They walk there bathed in acelestial light shed from their own souls, which reflects its rays upontheir lover; they color all with the flame of their own emotion andattribute to him their highest thoughts.A woman's errors comealmost always from her belief in good or her confidence in truth.InEugenie's simple heart the words, "My dear Annette, my loved one,"echoed like the sweetest language of love; they caressed her soul as,in childhood, the divine notes of the Venite adoremus, repeated bythe organ, caressed her ear.Moreover, the tears which still lingeredon the young man's lashes gave signs of that nobility of heart bywhich young girls are rightly won.How could she know thatCharles, though he loved his father and mourned him truly, wasmoved far more by paternal goodness than by the goodness of hisown heart? Monsieur and Madame Guillaume Grandet, by gratifyingevery fancy of their son, and lavishing upon him the pleasures of alarge fortune, had kept him from making the horrible calculations ofwhich so many sons in Paris become more or less guilty when, faceto face with the enjoyments of the world, they form desires andconceive schemes which they see with bitterness must be put off orlaid aside during the lifetime of their parents.The liberality of thefather in this instance had shed into the heart of the son a real love,in which there was no afterthought of self-interest. Nevertheless, Charles was a true child of Paris, taught by thecustoms of society and by Annette herself to calculate everything;already an old man under the mask of youth.He had gone throughthe frightful education of social life, of that world where in oneevening more crimes are committed in thought and speech thanjustice ever punishes at the assizes; where jests and clever sayingsassassinate the noblest ideas; where no one is counted strong unlesshis mind sees clear: and to see clear in that world is to believe innothing, neither in feelings, nor in men, nor even in events, forevents are falsified.There, to "see clear" we must weigh a friend'spurse daily, learn how to keep ourselves adroitly on the top of thewave, cautiously admire nothing, neither works of art nor gloriousactions, and remember that self-interest is the mainspring of allthings here below.After committing many follies, the great lady thebeautiful Annette compelled Charles to think seriously; with herperfumed hand among his curls, she talked to him of his futureposition; as she rearranged his locks, she taught him lessons ofworldly prudence; she made him effeminate and materialized him,a double corruption, but a delicate and elegant corruption, in thebest taste."You are very foolish, Charles," she would say to him [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]