noble and beautiful," she
said, gravely. "I have made you my heiress in more things than
property; you now possess the double ideal of which I dreamed. I
rejoice in what I have done," she continued, after a pause. "But,
my child, make no mistake; do yourself no wrong. You have easily
won happiness; you have only to stretch out your hand to take it,
and it is yours; but be careful to preserve it. If you had come
here solely to carry away with you the counsels that my knowledge
of your husband alone can give you, the journey would be well
repaid. Calyste is moved at this moment by a communicated passion,
but you have not inspired it. To make your happiness lasting, try,
my dear child, to give him something of his former emotions. In
the interests of both of you, be capricious, be coquettish; to
tell you the truth, you _must_ be. I am not advising any odious
scheming, or petty tyranny; this that I tell you is the science of
a woman's life. Between usury and prodigality, my child, is
economy. Study, therefore, to acquire honorably a certain empire
over Calyste. These are the last words on earthly interests that I
shall ever utter, and I have kept them to say as we part; for
there are times when I tremble in my conscience lest to save
Calyste I may have sacrificed you. Bind him to you, firmly, give
him children, let him respect their mother in you--and," she
added, in a low and trembling voice, "manage, if you can, that he
shall never again see Beatrix."

That name plunged us both into a sort of stupor; we looked into
each other's eyes, exchanging a vague uneasiness.

"Do you return to Guerande?" she asked me.

"Yes," I said.

"Never go to Les Touches. I did wrong to give him that property."

"Why?" I asked.

"Child!" she answered, "Les Touches for you is Bluebeard's
chamber. There is nothing so dangerous as to wake a sleeping
passion."

I have given you, dear mamma, the substance, or at any rate, the
meaning of our conversation. If Mademoiselle des Touches made me
talk to her freely, she also gave me much to think of; and all the
more because, in the delight of this trip, and the charm of these
relations with my Calyste, I had well-nigh forgotten the serious
situation of which I spoke to you in my first letter, and about
which you warned me.

But oh! mother, it is impossible for me to follow these counsels.
I cannot put an appeara