from the lips of her rival; but suddenly these hopes were succeeded by a
cruel apprehension, which we will endeavor to explain. What Adrienne had
just heard ought to have satisfied her completely. Sure that the heart of
Djalma had never ceased to belong to her, she ought, according to the
customs and opinions of the world, to have cared little if, in the
effervescence of an ardent youth, he had chanced to yield to some
ephemeral caprice for this creature, who was, after all, very pretty and
desirable--the more especially as he had now repaired his error by
separating from her.

Notwithstanding these good reasons, such an error of the senses would not
have been pardoned by Adrienne. She did not understand that complete
separation of the body and soul that would make the one exempt from the
stains of the other. She did not think it a matter of indifference to toy
with one woman whilst you were thinking of another. Her young, chaste,
passionate love demanded an absolute fealty--a fealty as just in the eyes
of heaven and nature as it may be ridiculous and foolish in the eyes of
man. For the very reason that she cherished a refined religion of the
senses, and revered them as an adorable and divine manifestation,
Adrienne had all sorts of delicate scruples and nice repugnances, unknown
to the austere spirituality of those ascetic prudes who despise vile
matter too much to take notice of its errors, and allow it to grovel in
filth, to show the contempt in which they hold it. Mdlle. de Cardoville
was not one of those wonderfully modest creatures who would die of
confusion rather than say plainly that they wished for a young and
handsome husband, at once ardent and pure. It is true that they generally
marry old, ugly, and corrupted men, and make up for it by taking two or
three lovers six months after. But Adrienne felt instinctively how much
of virginal and celestial freshness there is in the equal innocence of
two loving and passionate beings--what guarantees for the future in the