must read the answer your husband will send you. I have forwarded to
him, through my uncle, a copy of your letter, and my uncle asked him
what his reply would be if his wife wrote him a letter in such terms.
Thus you are not compromised. He will himself bring the Count's
answer. In the presence of that saintly man, and in mine, out of
respect for your own dignity, you must read it, or you will be no
better than a wilful, passionate child. You must make this sacrifice
to the world, to the law, and to God.'

"As she saw in this concession no attack on her womanly resolve, she
consented. All the labor or four or five months had been building up
to this moment. But do not the Pyramids end in a point on which a bird
may perch? The Count had set all his hopes on this supreme instant,
and he had reached it.

"In all my life I remember nothing more formidable than my uncle's
entrance into that little Pompadour drawing-room, at ten that evening.
The fine head, with its silver hair thrown into relief by the entirely
black dress, and the divinely calm face, had a magical effect on the
Comtesse Honorine; she had the feeling of cool balm on her wounds, and
beamed in the reflection of that virtue which gave light without
knowing it.

"'Monsieur the Cure of the White Friars,' said old Gobain.

"'Are you come, uncle, with a message of happiness and peace?' said
I.

"'Happiness and peace are always to be found in obedience to the
precepts of the Church,' replied my uncle, and he handed the Countess