st bear our atmosphere once more, I knew what it was
to breathe in unison with thy breath. How many prayers rose up to
heaven in that moment! Since I did not die as I rushed through
space to ask of God that he would leave thee with me, no human
creature can die of joy nor yet of sorrow. That moment has left
memories buried in my soul which never again will reappear upon
its surface and leave me tearless. Yes, the fears with which my
soul was tortured yesterday are incomparably greater than all
sorrows that the future can bring upon me, just as the joys which
thou hast given me, dear eternal thought of my life! will be
forever greater than any future joy God may be pleased to grant
me. Thou hast made me comprehend the love divine, that sure love,
sure in strength and in duration, that knows no doubt or jealousy.

Deepest melancholy gnawed my soul; the glimpse into that hidden life was
agonizing to a young heart new to social emotions; it was an awful thing
to find this abyss at the opening of life,--a bottomless abyss, a Dead
Sea. This dreadful aggregation of misfortunes suggested many thoughts;
at my first step into social life I found a standard of comparison by
which all other events and circumstances must seem petty.

The next day when I entered the salon she was there alone. She looked at
me for a moment, held out her hand, and said, "My friend is always too
tender." Her eyes grew moist; she rose, and then she added, in a tone of
desperate entreaty, "Never write thus to me again."

Monsieur de Mortsauf was very kind. The countess had recovered her
courage and serenity; but her pallor betrayed the sufferings of the
previous night, which were calmed, but not extinguished. That evening
she said to me, as she paced among the autumn leaves which rustled
beneath our footsteps, "Sorrow is infinite; joys are limited,"--words
which betrayed her sufferings by the comparison she made with the
fleeting delights of the previous week.

"Do not slander life," I said to her. "You are ignorant of love; love
gives happiness which shines in heaven."

"Hush!" she said. "I wish to know nothing of it. The Icelander would
die in Italy. I am calm and happy beside you; I can tell you all my
thoughts; do not destroy my confidence. Why will you not combine the
virtue of the priest with the charm of a free man."

"You make me drink the hemlock!" I cried, taking her hand and laying it
on my heart, which was beating