clock, and
requested him to meet her at the hotel. Nothing is more natural, and I
have no reason to be alarmed--yet this short absence disturbs me as much
as if it were to last years--it makes me sad--it is the first time we
have been separated so long a time during these eight blissful days.

Ah! how I love him, and how heavy hangs time on my hands during his
absence!

One thought comforts me in my present state of exaltation; I am unequal
to any great misfortune.... A fatal piece of news, a painful sight, a
false alarm ... a certain dreaded name mingled with one that I
adore--ah! a false report, although immediately contradicted, would
kill me on the spot--I could not live the two minutes it would require
to hear the denial--the truth happily demonstrated. This thought
consoles me--if my happiness is to end, I shall die with it.

Valentine, it is two o'clock! Oh! why does Raymond not return? My heart
sinks--my hand trembles so that I can scarcely hold the pen--my eyes
grow dim.... What can detain him? He left at eight, and should have
returned long ago. I know well that the relative he went to see might
have been delayed on the road--she may have mistaken the time, women are
so ignorant about travelling--they never understand the timetables.

All this tells me I am wrong to be uneasy--and yet ... I shudder at
every sound.... his horse is so fiery.... I am astonished that Raymond
did not let me read his relative's letter; he said he had left it on his
table ... but I looked on the table and it was not there. I wished to
read the letter so as to find out the exact time he was to be at Gueret,
and then I could tell when to expect him home.

But this relative is the mother of the girl he was to have married....
perhaps she still loves him.... is she with her mother?... Ah! what an
absurd idea! I am so uneasy that I divert my mind by being jealous--to
avoid thinking of possible dangers, I conjure up impossible ones.... Oh!
my God! it is not his love I doubt ... his love equals mine--it is the
intensity of his love that frightens me--it is in this love so pure, so
perfect, so divine--in this complete happiness that the danger lies. Is
it not sinful to idolize one of God's creatures, when this adoration is
due to God alone--to devote one's whole existence to a human being, for
his sake to forget everything else? This is the sin before Heaven ...

Oh! if I could only see him, and once more hear his voice! That blessed
v