〃Dear　little　one！〃　said　the　countess；　kissing　Jacques　passionately。
  When　I　was　alone　at　Tours　after　dinner　a　wild；　inexplicable　desire
  known　only　to　young　blood　possessed　me。　I　hired　a　horse　and　rode　from
  Tours　to　Pont…de…Ruan　in　an　hour　and　a　quarter。　There；　ashamed　of　my
  folly；　I　dismounted；　and　went　on　foot　along　the　road；　stepping
  cautiously　like　a　spy　till　I　reached　the　terrace。　The　countess　was　not
  there；　and　I　imagined　her　ill；　I　had　kept　the　key　of　the　little　gate；
  by　which　I　now　entered；　she　was　coming　down　the　steps　of　the　portico
  with　the　two　children　to　breathe　in　sadly　and　slowly　the　tender
  melancholy　of　the　landscape；　bathed　at　that　moment　in　the　setting　sun。
  〃Mother；　here　is　Felix；〃　said　Madeleine。
  〃Yes；〃　I　whispered；　〃it　is　I。　I　asked　myself　why　I　should　stay　at
  Tours　while　I　still　could　see　you；　why　not　indulge　a　desire　that　in　a
  few　days　more　I　could　not　gratify。〃
  〃He　won't　leave　us　again；　mother；〃　cried　Jacques；　jumping　round　me。
  〃Hush！〃　said　Madeleine；　〃if　you　make　such　a　noise　the　general　will
  come。〃
  〃It　is　not　right；〃　she　said。　〃What　folly！〃
  The　tears　in　her　voice　were　the　payment　of　what　must　be　called　a
  usurious　speculation　of　love。
  〃I　had　forgotten　to　return　this　key；〃　I　said　smiling。
  〃Then　you　will　never　return；〃　she　said。
  〃Can　we　ever　be　really　parted？〃　I　asked；　with　a　look　which　made　her
  drop　her　eyelids　for　all　answer。
  I　left　her　after　a　few　moments　passed　in　that　happy　stupor　of　the
  spirit　where　exaltation　ends　and　ecstasy　begins。　I　went　with　lagging
  step；　looking　back　at　every　minute。　When；　from　the　summit　of　the　hill；
  I　saw　the　valley　for　the　last　time　I　was　struck　with　the　contrast　it
  presented　to　what　it　was　when　I　first　came　there。　Then　it　was　verdant；
  then　it　glowed；　glowed　and　blossomed　like　my　hopes　and　my　desires。
  Initiated　now　into　the　gloomy　secrets　of　a　family；　sharing　the　anguish
  of　a　Christian　Niobe；　sad　with　her　sadness；　my　soul　darkened；　I　saw
  the　valley　in　the　tone　of　my　own　thoughts。　The　fields　were　bare；　the
  leaves　of　the　poplars　falling；　the　few　that　remained　were　rusty；　the
  vine…stalks　were　burned；　the　tops　of　the　trees　were　tan…colored；　like
  the　robes　in　which　royalty　once　clothed　itself　as　if　to　hide　the
  purple　of　its　power　beneath　the　brown　of　grief。　Still　in　harmony　with
  my　thoughts；　the　valley；　where　the　yellow　rays　of　the　setting　sun　were
  coldly　dying；　seemed　to　me　a　living　image　of　my　heart。
  To　leave　a　beloved　woman　is　terrible　or　natural；　according　as　the　mind
  takes　it。　For　my　part；　I　found　myself　suddenly　in　a　strange　land　of
  which　I　knew　not　the　language。　I　was　unable　to　lay　hold　of　things　to
  which　my　soul　no　longer　felt　attachment。　Then　it　was　that　the　height
  and　the　breadth　of　my　love　came　before　me；　my　Henriette　rose　in　all
  her　majesty　in　this　desert　where　I　existed　only　through　thoughts　of
  her。　That　form　so　worshipped　made　me　vow　to　keep　myself　spotless
  before　my　soul's　divinity；　to　wear　ideally　the　white　robe　of　the
  Levite；　like　Petrarch；　who　never　entered　Laura's　presence　unless
  clothed　in　white。　With　what　impatience　I　awaited　the　first　night　of　my
  return　to　my　father's　roof；　when　I　could　read　the　letter　which　I　felt
  of　during　the　journey　as　a　miser　fingers　the　bank…bills　he　carries
  about　him。　During　the　night　I　kissed　the　paper　on　which　my　Henriette
  had　manifested　her　will；　I　sought　to　gather　the　mysterious　emanations
  of　her　hand；　to　recover　the　intonations　of　her　voice　in　the　hush　of　my
  being。　Since　then　I　have　never　read　her　letters　except　as　I　read　that
  first　letter；　in　bed；　amid　total　silence。　I　cannot　understand　how　the
  letters　of　our　beloved　can　be　read　in　any　other　way；　yet　there　are
  men；　unworthy　to　be　loved；　who　read　such　letters　in　the　turmoil　of　the
  day；　laying　them　aside　and　taking　them　up　again　with　odious　composure。
  Here；　Natalie；　is　the　voice　which　echoed　through　the　silence　of　that
  night。　Behold　the　noble　figure　which　stood　before　me　and　pointed　to
  the　right　path　among　the　cross…ways　at　which　I　stood。
  To　Monsieur　le　Vicomte　Felix　de　Vandenesse：
  What　happiness　for　me；　dear　friend；　to　gather　the　scattered
  elements　of　my　experience　that　I　may　arm　you　against　the　dangers
  of　the　world；　through　which　I　pray　that　you　pass　scatheless。　I
  have　felt　the　highest　pleasures　of　maternal　love　as　night　after
  night　I　have　thought　of　these　things。　While　writing　this　letter；
  sentence　by　sentence；　projecting　my　thoughts　into　the　life　you　are
  about　to　lead；　I　went　often　to　my　window。　Looking　at　the　towers　of
  Frapesle；　visible　in　the　moonlight；　I　said　to　myself；　〃He　sleeps；
  I　wake　for　him。〃　Delightful　feelings！　which　recall　the　happiest　of
  my　life；　when　I　watched　Jacques　sleeping　in　his　cradle　and　waited
  till　he　wakened；　to　feed　him　with　my　milk。　You　are　the　man…child
  whose　soul　must　now　be　strengthened　by　precepts　never　taught　in
  schools；　but　which　we　women　have　the　privilege　of　inculcating。
  These　precepts　will　influence　your　success；　they　prepare　the　way
  for　it；　they　will　secure　it。　Am　I　not　exercising　a　spiritual
  motherhood　in　giving　you　a　standard　by　which　to　judge　the　actions
  of　your　life；　a　motherhood　comprehended；　is　it　not；　by　the　child？
  Dear　Felix；　let　me；　even　though　I　may　make　a　few　mistakes；　let　me
  give　to　our　friendship　a　proof　of　the　disinterestedness　which
  sanctifies　it。
  In　yielding　you　to　the　world　I　am　renouncing　you；　but　I　love　you
  too　well　not　to　sacrifice　my　happiness　to　your　welfare。　For　the
  last　four　months　you　have　made　me　reflect　deeply　on　the　laws　and
  customs　which　regulate　our　epoch。　The　conversations　I　have　had
  with　my　aunt；　well…known　to　you　who　have　replaced　her；　the　events
  of　Monsieur　de　Mortsauf's　life；　which　he　has　told　me；　the　tales
  related　by　my　father；　to　whom　society　and　the　court　are　familiar
  in　their　greatest　as　well　as　in　their　smallest　aspects；　all　these
  have　risen　in　my　memory　for　the　benefit　of　my　adopted　child　at　the
  moment　when　he　is　about　to　be　launched；　well…nigh　alone；　among
  men；　about　to　act　without　adviser　in　a　world　where　many　are
  wrecked　by　their　own　best　qualities　thoughtlessly　displayed；　while
  others　succeed　through　a　judicious　use　of　their　worst。
  I　ask　you　to　ponder　this　statement　of　my　opinion　of　society　as　a
  whole；　it　is　concise；　for　to　you　a　few　words　are　sufficient。
  I　do　not　know　whether　societies　are　of　divine　origin　or　whether
  they　were　invented　by　man。　I　am　equally　ignorant　of　the　direction
  in　which　they　tend。　What　I　do　know　certainly　is　the　fact　of　their
  existence。　No　sooner　therefore　do　you　enter　society；　instead　of
  living　a　life　apart；　than　you　are　bound　to　consider　its　conditions
  binding；　a　contract　is　signed　between　you。　Does　society　in　these
  days　gain　more　from　a　man　than　it　returns　to　him？　I　think　so；　but
  as　to　whether　the　individual　man　finds　more　cost　than　profit；　or
  buys　too　dear　the　advantages　he　obtains；　concerns　the　legislator
  only；　I　have　nothing　to　say　to　that。　In　my　judgment　you　are　bound
  to　obey　in　all　things　the　general　law；　without　discussion；　whether
  it　injures　or　benefits　your　personal　interests。　This　principle　may
  seem　to　you　a　very　simple　one；　but　it　is　difficult　of　application；
  it　is　like　sap；　which　must　infiltrate　the　smallest　of　the
  capillary　tubes　to　stir　the　tree；　renew　its　verdure；　develop　its
  flowers；　and　ripen　fruit。　Dear；　the　laws　of　society　are　not　all
  written　in　a　book；　manners　and　customs　create　laws；　the　more
  important　of　which　are　often　the　least　known。　Believe　me；　there
  are　neither　teachers；　nor　schools；　nor　text…books　for　the　laws
  that　are　now　to　regulate　your　actions；　your　language；　your　visible
  life；　the　manner　of　your　presentation　to　the　world；　and　your　quest
  of　fortune。　Neglect　those　secret　laws　or　fail　to　understand　them；
  and　you　stay　at　the　foot　of　the　social　system　instead　of　looking
  down　upon　it。　Even　though　this　letter　may　seem　to　you　diffuse；
  telling　you　much　that　you　have　already　thought；　let　me　confide　to
  you　a　woman's　ethics。
  To　explain　society　on　the　theory　of　individual　happiness　adroitly
  won　at　the　cost　of　the　greater　number　is　a　monstrous　doctrine；
  which　in　its　strict　application　leads　men　to　believe　that　all　they
  can　secretly　lay　hold　of　before　the　law　or　society　or　other
  individuals　condemn　it　as　a　wrong　is　honestly　and　fairly　theirs。
  Once　admit　that　claim　and　the　clever　thief　goes　free；　the　woman
  who　violates　her　marriage　vow　without　the　knowledge　of　the　world
  is　virtuous　and　happy；　kill　a　man；　leaving　no　proof　for　justice；
  and　if；　like　Macbeth；　you　win　a　crown　you　have　done　wisely；　your
  selfish　interests　become　the　higher　law；　the　only　question　then　is
  how　to　evade；　without　witnesses　or　proof；　the　obstacles　which　law
  and　morality　place　between　you　and　your　self…indulgence。　To　those
  who　hold　this　view　of　society；　the　problem　of　makin