to a girl
in the flower of her youth, if it had not been filled with a dream which
had taken the importance of a great passion, not in my life, as I had
sacrificed my life to duty, but in my thoughts. I was in continual
correspondence with an absent person to whom I told all my thoughts, all
my dreams, who knew all my humble virtues, and who heard all my platonic
enthusiasm. This person was excellent in reality, but I attributed to
him more than all the perfections possible to human nature. I only saw
this man for a few days, and sometimes only for a few hours, in the
course of a year. He was as romantic, in his intercourse with me, as I
was. Consequently he did not cause me any scruples, either of religion
or of conscience. This man was the stay and consolation of my exile,
as regards the world of reality." It was this dream, as intense as any
passion, that we must study here. We must make the acquaintance of this
excellent and romantic man.

Aurelien de Seze was a young magistrate, a few years older than Aurore.
He was twenty-six years of age and she was twenty-one. He was the
great-nephew of the counsel who pleaded for Louis XVI. There was,
therefore, in his family a tradition of moral nobility, and the young
man had inherited this. He had met Aurore at Bordeaux and again at
Cauterets. They had visited the grottoes of Lourdes together. Aurelien
had appreciated the young wife's charm, although she had not attempted
to attract his attention, as she was not coquettish. She appreciated in
him--all that was so lacking in Casimir--culture of mind, seriousness of
character, discreet manners which people took at first for coldness, and
a somewhat dignified elegance. He was scrupulously honest, a magistrate
of the old school, sure of his principles and master of himself. It was,
probably, just that which appealed to the young wife, who was a true
woman and who had always wished to be dominated. When they met again at
Breda, they had an explanation. This was the "violent grief" of which
George Sand speaks. She was consoled by a friend, Zoe Leroy, who found
a way of calming this stormy soul. She came through this crisis crushed
with emotion and fatigue, but calm and joyful. They had vowed to love
each other, but to remain without reproach, and their vow was faithfully
kept.

Aurore, therefore, had nothing with which to reproach herself, but with
her innate need of being frank, she considered it her duty to write a
letter to h