ikely to live long save in souls
disciplined by religion," and he lowered his eyes respectfully lest the
Marquise should read his doubts in them. The energy of her outburst had
grieved him. He had seen the self that lurked beneath so many forms,
and despaired of softening a heart which affliction seemed to sear. The
divine Sower's seed could not take root in such a soil, and His gentle
voice was drowned by the clamorous outcry of self-pity. Yet the good man
returned again and again with an apostle's earnest persistence, brought
back by a hope of leading so noble and proud a soul to God; until the
day when he made the discovery that the Marquise only cared to talk with
him because it was sweet to speak of him who was no more. He would
not lower his ministry by condoning her passion, and confined the
conversation more and more to generalities and commonplaces.

Spring came, and with the spring the Marquise found distraction from her
deep melancholy. She busied herself for lack of other occupation with
her estate, making improvements for amusement.

In October she left the old chateau. In the life of leisure at
Saint-Lange she had recovered from her grief and grown fair and fresh.
Her grief had been violent at first in its course, as the quoit hurled
forth with all the player's strength, and like the quoit after many
oscillations, each feebler than the last, it had slackened into
melancholy. Melancholy is made up of a succession of such oscillations,
the first touching upon despair, the last on the border between pain
and pleasure; in youth, it is the twilight of dawn; in age, the dusk of
night.

As the Marquise drove through the village in her traveling carriage, she
met the cure on his way back from the church. She bowed in response to
his farewell greeting, but it was with lowered eyes and averted face.
She did not wish to see him again. The village cure had judged this poor
Diana of Ephesus only too well.

III. AT THIRTY YEARS

Madame Firmiani was giving a ball. M. Charles de Vandenesse, a young man
of great promise, the bearer of one of those historic names which, in
spite of the efforts of legislation, are always associated with the
glory of France, had received letters of introduction to some of the
great lady's friends in Naples, and had come to thank the hostess and to
take his leave.

Vandenesse had already acquitted himself creditably on several
diplomatic missions; and now that he had received an a