of our reason? In my conscience I heard cries. Honorine was not alone
in her anguish. And yet I would have it! . . . I am consumed by
remorse. In the Rue Payenne I was dying of the joys I had not; now I
shall die in Italy of the joys I have had. . . . Wherein lay the
discord between two natures, equally noble, I dare assert?'"

For some minutes profound silence reigned on the terrace.

Then the Consul, turning to the two women, asked, "Was she virtuous?"

Mademoiselle des Touches rose, took the Consul's arm, went a few steps
away, and said to him:

"Are not men wrong too when they come to us and make a young girl a
wife while cherishing at the bottom of their heart some angelic image,
and comparing us to those unknown rivals, to perfections often
borrowed from a remembrance, and always finding us wanting?"

"Mademoiselle, you would be right if marriage were based on passion;
and that was the mistake of those two, who will soon be no more.
Marriage with heart-deep love on both sides would be Paradise."

Mademoiselle des Touches turned from the Consul, and was immediately
joined by Claude Vignon, who said in her ear:

"A bit of a coxcomb is M. de l'Hostal."

"No," replied she, whispering to Claude these words: "for he has not
yet guessed that Honorine would have loved him.--Oh!" she exclaimed,
seeing the Consul's wife approaching, "his wife was listening! Unhappy