s employed in
hunting power.

CHAPTER VI. ROMANTIC LOVE

On the morrow of the ball given by Lady Dudley, Marie, without having
received the slightest declaration, believed that she was loved by Raoul
according to the programme of her dreams, and Raoul was aware that the
countess had chosen him for her lover. Though neither had reached the
incline of such emotions where preliminaries are abridged, both were on
the road to it. Raoul, wearied with the dissipations of life, longed for
an ideal world, while Marie, from whom the thought of wrong-doing was
far, indeed, never imagined the possibility of going out of such a
world. No love was ever more innocent or purer than theirs; but none was
ever more enthusiastic or more entrancing in thought.

The countess was captivated by ideas worthy of the days of chivalry,
though completely modernized. The glowing conversation of the poet had
more echo in her mind than in her heart. She thought it fine to be his
providence. How sweet the thought of supporting by her white and feeble
hand this colossus,--whose feet of clay she did not choose to see; of
giving life where life was needed; of being secretly the creator of a
career; of helping a man of genius to struggle with fate and master it.
Ah! to embroider his scarf for the tournament! to procure him weapons!
to be his talisman against ill-fortune! his balm for every wound! For a
woman brought up like Marie, religious and noble as she was, such a love
was a form of charity. Hence the boldness of it. Pure sentiments often
compromise themselves with a lofty disdain that resembles the boldness
of courtesans.

As soon as by her specious distinctions Marie had convinced herself that
she did not in any way impair her conjugal faith, she rushed into the
happiness of loving Raoul. The least little things of her daily life
acquired a charm. Her boudoir, where she thought of him, became a
sanctuary. There was nothing there that did not rouse some sense of
pleasure; even her ink-stand was the coming accomplice in the pleasures
of correspondence; for she would now have letters to read and answer.
Dress, that splendid poesy of the feminine life, unknown or exhausted by
her, appeared to her eyes endowed with a magic hitherto unperceived. It
suddenly became clear to her what it is to most women, the manifestation
of an inward thought, a language, a symbol. How many enjoyments in a
toilet arranged to please _him_, to do _him_ honor! She