h you to soften your sorrows by those caresses which made
your Natalie so dear to you! I wished to start, to follow you, to
fly to you. But my mother told me you had taken passage in a ship
which leaves Bordeaux to-morrow, that I could not reach you except
by post, and, moreover, that it was madness in my present state to
risk our future by attempting to follow you. I could not bear such
violent emotions; I was taken ill, and am writing to you now in
bed.

My mother is doing all she can to stop certain calumnies which
seem to have got about on your disaster. The Vandenesses, Charles
and Felix, have earnestly defended you; but your friend de Marsay
treats the affair satirically. He laughs at your accusers instead
of replying to them. I do not like his way of lightly brushing
aside such serious attacks. Are you not deceived in him? However,
I will obey you; I will make him my friend. Do not be anxious, my
adored one, on the points that concern your honor; is it not mine
as well? My diamonds shall be pledged; we intend, mamma and I, to
employ our utmost resources in the payment of your debts; and we
shall try to buy back your vineyard at Belle-Rose. My mother, who
understands business like a lawyer, blames you very much for not
having told her of your embarrassments. She would not have bought
--thinking to please you--the Grainrouge domain, and then she
could have lent you that money as well as the thirty thousand
francs she brought with her. She is in despair at your decision;
she fears the climate of India for your health. She entreats you
to be sober, and not to let yourself be trapped by women--That
made me laugh; I am as sure of you as I am of myself. You will
return to me rich and faithful. I alone know your feminine
delicacy, and the secret sentiments which make you a human flower
worthy of the gardens of heaven. The Bordeaux people were right
when they gave you your floral nickname.

But alas! who will take care of my delicate flower? My heart is
rent with dreadful ideas. I, his wife, Natalie, I am here, and
perhaps he suffers far away from me! And not to share your pains,
your vexations, your dangers! In whom will you confide? how will
you live without that ear into which you have hitherto poured all?
Dear, sensitive plant, swept away by this storm, will you be able
to survive in another soil than your native land?

It seems to me that