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Updated: June 29, 2025
Our treaty was sealed with a kiss, and when I left her we had both forgotten that M. de Dalens ever existed. A kind of stagnant inertia, tempered with bitter joy, is characteristic of debauchery.
IT was Mercanson who had repeated in the village and in the chateaux my conversation with him about Dalens and the suspicions that, in spite of myself, I had allowed him clearly to see. Every one knows how bad news travels in the provinces, flying from mouth to mouth and growing as it flies; that is what happened in this case.
"Has her husband been dead long?" "Five years on All-Saints' day. He was a worthy man." "And has this Monsieur de Dalens paid court?" "To the widow? In faith to tell the truth " he stopped, embarrassed. "Well, will you answer me?" "Some say so and some do not I know nothing and have seen nothing." "And you just told me that they do not talk about her in the country?"
"Listen to me," I whispered in her ear, "I am a wretched fool, but I can keep nothing on my heart. Who is this M. de Dalens who lives on the mountain and comes to see you?" She appeared astonished to hear me mention that name. "Dalens?" she replied. "He was my husband's friend." She looked at me as though to say: "Why do you ask?" It seemed to me that her face wore a grieved expression.
Was it not she who confessed her love by her own act, at the very moment I had decided that she would never be mine? Did she not accept my arm, the first day I met her? If that Dalens has been her lover, he probably is still; there are certain liaisons that have neither beginning nor end; when chance ordains a meeting, it is resumed; when parted, it is forgotten.
She has just lost her aunt, and is all alone; she is exposed to the power of I know not what enemy. Can it be Mercanson? He may have spoken of my conversation with him, and, seeing that I was jealous of Dalens, may have guessed the rest. Assuredly he is the snake who has been hissing about my well-beloved flower. I must punish him, and I must repair the wrong I have done Brigitte. Fool that I am!
I must have some witness who had seen Dalens with Madame Pierson and who knew all about their relations. I could not get that Dalens out of my head, and not being able to talk to any one else, I asked Mercanson about him. If Mercanson was not a bad man, he was either a fool or very shrewd, I have never known which.
M. de Dalens had loved her; but he was a man of frivolous disposition, dissipated and inconstant; she had given him to understand that, not wishing to remarry, she could only request that he drop the role of suitor, and he had yielded to her wishes with good grace; but his visits had become more rare since that time, until now they had ceased altogether.
M. de Dalens had loved her; but he was a man of frivolous disposition, dissipated and inconstant; she had given him to understand that, not wishing to remarry, she could only request that he drop the role of suitor, and he had yielded to her wishes with good grace; but his visits had become more rare since that time, until now they had ceased altogether.
"Five years on All-Saints' day. He was a worthy man." "And has this M. de Dalens paid court?" "To the widow? In faith to tell the truth " he stopped, embarrassed. "Well, will you answer me?" "Some say so and some do not I know nothing and have seen nothing." "And you just told me that they do not talk about her in the country?" "That is all they have said, and I supposed you knew that."
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