was still there; it was some comfort to him to find he was gone,
and it was a pleasure to reflect that he could not have been long
there: he fancied, that, perhaps, it was not the Duke de Nemours
of whom he had reason to be jealous; and though he did not doubt
of it, yet he endeavoured to doubt of it; but he was convinced of
it by so many circumstances, that he continued not long in that
pleasing uncertainty. He immediately went into his wife's room,
and after having talked to her for some time about indifferent
matters, he could not forbear asking her what she had done, and
who she had seen, and accordingly she gave him an account: when
he found she did not name the Duke de Nemours he asked her
trembling, if those were all she had seen, in order to give her
an occasion to name the Duke, and that he might not have the
grief to see she made use of any evasion. As she had not seen
him, she did not name him; when Monsieur de Cleves with accents
of sorrow, said, "And have you not seen the Duke de Nemours, or
have you forgot him?" "I have not seen him indeed," answered
she; "I was ill, and I sent one of my women to make my
excuses." "You was ill then only for him," replied Monsieur
de Cleves, "since you admitted the visits of others: why this
distinction with respect to the Duke de Nemours? Why is not he
to you as another man? Why should you be afraid of seeing him?
Why do you let him perceive that you are so? Why do you show him
that you make use of the power which his passion gives you over
him? Would you dare refuse to see him, but that you knew he
distinguishes your rigour from incivility? But why should you
exercise that rigour towards him? From a person like you, all
things are favours, except indifference." "I did not think,"
replied Madam de Cleves, "whatever suspicions you have of the
Duke de Nemours, that you could reproach me for not admitting a