awful
cry: 'Let me die, life is a burden to me!' When visitors are here and he
enjoys them, he forgets his gloom and is courteous and polite. You ask
me why he cannot be so to his family. I cannot explain that want of
loyalty in a man who is truly chivalrous. He is quite capable of riding
at full speed to Paris to buy me a set of ornaments, as he did the other
day before the ball. Miserly in his household, he would be lavish upon
me if I wished it. I would it were reversed; I need nothing for myself,
but the wants of the household are many. In my strong desire to make him
happy, and not reflecting that I might be a mother, I began my married
life by letting him treat me as a victim, I, who at that time by using a
few caresses could have led him like a child--but I was unable to play a
part I should have thought disgraceful. Now, however, the welfare of my
family requires me to be as calm and stern as the figure of Justice--and
yet, I too have a heart that overflows with tenderness."

"But why," I said, "do you not use this great influence to master him
and govern him?"

"If it concerned myself only I should not attempt either to overcome the
dogged silence with which for days together he meets my arguments,
nor to answer his irrational remarks, his childish reasons. I have no
courage against weakness, any more than I have against childhood;
they may strike me as they will, I cannot resist. Perhaps I might meet
strength with strength, but I am powerless against those I pity. If I
were required to coerce Madeleine in some matter that would save her
life, I should die with her. Pity relaxes all my fibres and unstrings
my nerves. So it is that the violent shocks of the last ten years have
broken me down; my feelings, so often battered, are numb at times;
nothing can revive them; even the courage with which I once faced my
troubles begins to fail me. Yes, sometimes I am beaten. For want of
rest--I mean repose--and sea-baths by which to recover my nervous
strength, I shall perish. Monsieur de Mortsauf will have killed me, and
he will die of my death."

"Why not leave Clochegourde for a few months? Surely you could take your
children and go to the seashore."

"In the first place, Monsieur de Mortsauf would think he were lost if I
left him. Though he will not admit his condition he is well aware of it.
He is both sane and mad, two natures in one man, a contradiction which
explains many an irrational action. Besides this, he