the village rector-第7章

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loving　her　husband　flung　her　violently　at　the　foot　of　the　altar；　where
divine　and　consolatory　voices　urged　her　to　patience。　She　was　patient；
she　was　gentle；　and　she　continued　to　live　on；　hoping　always　for　the
happiness　of　maternity。

〃Did　you　notice　Madame　Graslin　this　morning？〃　the　women　would　say　to
each　other。　〃Marriage　doesn't　agree　with　her；　she　is　actually　green。〃

〃Yes；〃　some　of　them　would　reply；　〃but　would　you　give　your　daughter　to
a　man　like　Graslin？　No　woman　could　marry　him　with　impunity。〃

Now　that　Graslin　was　married；　all　the　mothers　who　had　courted　him　for
ten　years　past　pursued　him　with　sarcasms。

Veronique　grew　visibly　thinner　and　really　ugly；　her　eyes　looked　weary；
her　features　coarsened；　her　manner　was　shy　and　awkward；　she　acquired
that　air　of　cold　and　melancholy　rigidity　for　which　the　ultra…pious　are
so　often　blamed。　Her　skin　took　on　a　grayish　tone；　she　dragged　herself
languidly　about　during　this　first　year　of　married　life；　ordinarily　so
brilliant　for　a　young　wife。　She　tried　to　divert　her　mind　by　reading；
profiting　by　the　liberty　of　married　women　to　read　what　they　please。
She　read　the　novels　of　Walter　Scott；　the　poems　of　Lord　Byron；　the
works　of　Schiller　and　of　Goethe；　and　much　else　of　modern　and　also
ancient　literature。　She　learned　to　ride　a　horse；　and　to　dance　and　to
draw。　She　painted　water…colors　and　made　sepia　sketches；　turning
ardently　to　all　those　resources　which　women　employ　to　bear　the
weariness　of　their　solitude。　She　gave　herself　that　second　education
which　most　women　derive　from　a　man；　but　which　she　derived　from　herself
only。

The　natural　superiority　of　a　free；　sincere　spirit；　brought　up；　as　it
were　in　a　desert　and　strengthened　by　religion；　had　given　her　a　sort　of
untrammelled　grandeur　and　certain　needs；　to　which　the　provincial　world
she　lived　in　offered　no　sustenance。　All　books　pictured　Love　to　her；
and　she　sought　for　the　evidence　of　its　existence；　but　nowhere　could
she　see　the　passion　of　which　she　read。　Love　was　in　her　heart；　like
seeds　in　the　earth；　awaiting　the　action　of　the　sun。　Her　deep
melancholy；　caused　by　constant　meditation　on　herself；　brought　her　back
by　hidden　by…ways　to　the　brilliant　dreams　of　her　girlish　days。　Many　a
time　she　must　have　lived　again　that　old　romantic　poem；　making　herself
both　the　actor　and　the　subject　of　it。　Again　she　saw　that　island　bathed
in　light；　flowery；　fragrant；　caressing　to　her　soul。　Often　her　pallid
eyes　wandered　around　a　salon　with　piercing　curiosity。　The　men　were　all
like　Graslin。　She　studied　them；　and　then　she　seemed　to　question　their
wives；　but　nothing　on　the　faces　of　those　women　revealed　an　inward
anguish　like　to　hers；　and　she　returned　home　sad　and　gloomy　and
distressed　about　herself。　The　authors　she　had　read　in　the　morning
answered　to　the　feelings　in　her　soul；　their　thoughts　pleased　her；　but
at　night　she　heard　only　empty　words；　not　even　presented　in　a　lively
way；dull；　empty；　foolish　conversations　in　petty　local　matters；　or
personalities　of　no　interest　to　her。　She　was　often　surprised　at　the
heat　displayed　in　discussions　which　concerned　no　feeling　or　sentiment
to　her　the　essence　of　existence；　the　soul　of　life。

Often　she　was　seen　with　fixed　eyes；　mentally　absorbed；　thinking　no
doubt　of　the　days　of　her　youthful　ignorance　spent　in　that　chamber　full
of　harmonies　now　forever　passed　away。　She　felt　a　horrible　repugnance
against　dropping　into　the　gulf　of　pettiness　in　which　the　women　among
whom　she　lived　were　floundering。　This　repugnance；　stamped　on　her
forehead；　on　her　lips；　and　ill…disguised；　was　taken　for　the　insolence
of　a　parvenue。　Madame　Graslin　began　to　observe　on　all　faces　a　certain
coldness；　she　felt　in　all　remarks　an　acrimony；　the　causes　of　which
were　unknown　to　her；　for　she　had　no　intimate　friend　to　enlighten　or
advise　her。　Injustice；　which　angers　little　minds；　brings　loftier　souls
to　question　themselves；　and　communicates　a　species　of　humility　to
them。　Veronique　condemned　herself；　endeavoring　to　see　her　own　faults。
She　tried　to　be　affable；　they　called　her　false。　She　grew　more　gentle
still；　they　said　she　was　a　hypocrite；　and　her　pious　devotion　helped　on
the　calumny。　She　spent　money；　gave　dinners　and　balls；　and　they　taxed
her　with　pride。

Unsuccessful　in　all　these　attempts；　unjustly　judged；　rebuffed　by　the
petty　and　tormenting　pride　which　characterizes　provincial　society；
where　each　individual　is　armed　with　pretensions　and　their　attendant
uneasiness；　Madame　Graslin　fell　back　into　utter　solitude。　She　returned
with　eagerness　to　the　arms　of　the　Church。　Her　great　soul；　clothed　with
so　weak　a　flesh；　showed　her　the　multiplied　commandments　of　Catholicism
as　so　many　stones　placed　for　protection　along　the　precipices　of　life；
so　many　props　brought　by　charitable　hands　to　sustain　human　weakness　on
its　weary　way；　and　she　followed；　with　greater　rigor　than　ever；　even
the　smallest　religious　practices。

On　this　the　liberals　of　the　town　classed　Madame　Graslin　among　the
/devotes/；　the　ultras。　To　the　different　animosities　Veronique　had
innocently　acquired；　the　virulence　of　party　feeling　now　added　its
periodical　exasperation。　But　as　this　ostracism　took　nothing　really
from　her；　she　quietly　left　society　and　lived　in　books　which　offered
her　such　infinite　resources。　She　meditated　on　what　she　read；　she
compared　systems；　she　widened　immeasurably　the　horizons　of　her
intellect　and　the　extent　of　her　education；　in　this　way　she　opened　the
gates　of　her　soul　to　curiosity。

During　this　period　of　resolute　study；　in　which　religion　supported　and
maintained　her　mind；　she　obtained　the　friendship　of　Monsieur
Grossetete；　one　of　those　old　men　whose　mental　superiority　grows　rusty
in　provincial　life；　but　who；　when　they　come　in　contact　with　an　eager
mind；　recover　something　of　their　former　brilliancy。　The　good　man　took
an　earnest　interest　in　Veronique；　who；　to　reward　him　for　the
flattering　warmth　of　heart　which　old　men　show　to　those　they　like；
displayed　before　him；　and　for　the　first　time　in　her　life；　the
treasures　of　her　soul　and　the　acquirements　of　her　mind；　cultivated　so
secretly；　and　now　full　of　blossom。　An　extract　from　a　letter　written　by
her　about　this　time　to　Monsieur　Grossetete　will　show　the　condition　of
the　mind　of　a　woman　who　was　later　to　give　signal　proofs　of　a　firm　and
lofty　nature：

　　〃The　flowers　you　sent　me　for　the　ball　were　charming；　but　they
　　suggested　harsh　reflections。　Those　pretty　creatures　gathered　by
　　you；　and　doomed　to　wilt　upon　my　bosom　to　adorn　a　fete；　made　me
　　think　of　others　that　live　and　die　unseen　in　the　depths　of　your
　　woods；　their　fragrance　never　inhaled　by　any　one。　I　asked　myself
　　why　I　was　dancing　there；　why　I　was　decked　with　flowers；　just　as　I
　　ask　God　why　he　has　placed　me　to　live　in　this　world。

　　〃You　see；　my　friend；　all　is　a　snare　to　the　unhappy；　the　smallest
　　matter　brings　the　sick　mind　back　to　its　woes；　but　the　greatest
　　evil　of　certain　woes　is　the　persistency　which　makes　them　a　fixed
　　idea　pervading　our　lives。　A　constant　sorrow　ought　rather　to　be　a
　　divine　inspiration。　You　love　flowers　for　themselves；　whereas　I
　　love　them　as　I　love　to　listen　to　fine　music。　So；　as　I　was　saying；
　　the　secret　of　a　mass　of　things　escapes　me。　You；　my　old　friend；　you
　　have　a　passion；that　of　the　horticulturist。　When　you　return　to
　　town　inspire　me　with　that　taste；　so　that　I　may　rush　to　my
　　greenhouse　with　eager　feet；　as　you　go　to　yours　to　watch　the
　　development　of　your　plants；　to　bud　and　bloom　with　them；　to　admire
　　what　you　create；the　new　colors；　the　unexpected　varieties；　which
　　expand　and　grow　beneath　your　eyes　by　the　virtue　of　your　care。

　　〃My　greenhouse；　the　one　I　watch；　is　filled　with　suffering　souls。
　　The　miseries　I　try　to　lessen　sadden　my　heart；　and　when　I　take　them
　　upon　myself；　when；　after　finding　some　young　woman　without　clothing
　　for　her　babe；　some　old　man　wanting　bread；　I　have　supplied　their
　　needs；　the　emotions　their　distress　and　its　relief　have　caused　me
　　do　not　suffice　my　soul。　Ah；　friend；　I　feel　within　me　untold　powers
　　for　evil；　possibly；which　nothing　can　lower；　which　the　sternest
　　commands　of　our　religion　are　unable　to　abase！　Sometimes；　when　I　go
　　to　see　my　mother；　walking　alone　among　the　fields；　I　want　to　cry
　　aloud；　and　I　do　so。　It　seems　to　me　that　my　body　is　a　prison　in
　　which　some　evil　genius　is　holding　a　shuddering　creature　while
　　awaiting　the　mysterious　words　which　are　to　burst　its　obstructive
　　form。

　　〃But　that　comparison　is　not　a　just　one。　In　me　it　seems　to　be　the
　　body　that　seeks　escape；　if　I　may　say　so。　Religion　fills　my　soul；
　　books　and　their　riches　occupy　my　mind。　Why；　then；　do　I　desire　some
　　anguish　which　shall　destroy　the　enervating　peace　of　my　existence？

　　〃Oh；　if　some　sentiment；　some　mania　that　I　could　cultivate；　does
　　not　come　into　my　life；　I　feel　I　shall　sink　at　last　into　the　gulf
　　where　all　ideas　are　dulled；　where　character　deteriorates；　motives
　　slacken；　virtues　lose　their　backbone；　and　all　the　forces　of　the
　　soul　are　scattered；a　gulf　in　which　I　shall　no　longer　be　the
　　being　Nature　meant　me　to　be！

　　〃This　is　what　my　bitter　complainings　mean。　But　do　not　let　them
　　hinder　you　from　sending　me　those　flowers。　Your　friendship　is　so
　　soothing　and　so　full　of　loving　kindness　that　it　has　for　the　last
　　few　months　almost　reconciled　me　to　myself。　Yes；　it　makes　me　happy
　　to　have　you　cast　a　glance　upon　my　soul；　at　once　so　barren　and　so
　　full　of　bloom；　and　I　am　thankful　for　every　gentle　word　you　say　to
　　one　who　rides　the　phantom　steed　of　dreams；　and　returns　worn…out。〃

At　the　end　of　the　third　year　of　his　married　life；　Graslin；　observing
that　his　wife　no　longer　used　her　horses；　and　finding　a　good　market　for
them；　sold　them。　He　also　sold　the　carriages；　sent　away　the　coachman；
let　the　bishop　have　his　man…cook；　and　contented　himself　with　a　woman。
He　no　longer　gave　the　monthly　sum　to　his　wife；　telling　her　that　he
would　pay　all　bills。　He　thought　himself　the　most　fortunate　of　husbands
in　meeting　no　opposition　whatever　to　these　proceedings　from　the　woman
who　had　brought　him　a　million　of　francs　as　a　dowry。　Madame　Graslin；
brought　up　from　childhood　without　ever　seeing　money；　or　being　made　to
feel　that　it　was　an　indispensable　element　in　life；　deserved　no　praise
whatever　for　this　apparent　generosity。　Graslin　even　noticed　in　a
corner　of　the　secretary　all　the　sums　he　had　ever　given　her；　less　the
money　she　had　bestowed　in　charity　or　spent　upon　her　dress；　the　cost　of
which　was　much　lessened　by　the　profusion　of　her　wedding　trousseau。

Graslin　boasted　of　Veronique　to　all　Limoges　as　being　a　model　wife。　He
next　regretted　the　money　spent　on　the　house；　and　he　ordered　the
furniture　to　be　all　packed　away　or　covered　up。　His　wife's　bedroom；
dressing…room；　and　boudoir　were　alone　spared　from　these　protective
measures；　which　protect　nothing；　for　furniture　is　injured　just　as　much
by　being　covered　up　as　by　being　left　uncovered。　Graslin　himself　lived
almost　entirely　on　the　ground…floor　of　the　house；　where　he　had　his
office；　and　resumed　his　old　business　habits　with　avidity。　He　thought
himself　an　excellent　husband　because　he　went　upstairs　to　breakfast　and
dined　with　his　wife；　but　his　unpunctuality　was　so　great　that　it　was
not　more　than　ten　times　a　month　that　he　began　a　meal　with　he；　he　had
ex