Does your abbe, who is always prating of virtue, take me for a murderer or a thief? Come, Edmee, confess now; you know well enough that I am an honest man; you do not really think me wicked; but I am displeasing to you because I am not clever, and you like M. de la Marche because he has a knack of making unmeaning speeches which Ishould blush to utter."
"And if, to be pleasing to me," she said with a smile, after listening most attentively, and without withdrawing her hand which I had taken through the bars, "if, in order to be preferred to M. de la Marche, it were necessary to acquire more wit, as you say, would you not try?""I don't know," I replied, after hesitating a moment; "perhaps Ishould be fool enough; for the power you have over me is more than Ican understand; but it would be a sorry piece of cowardice and a great folly.""Why, Bernard?"
"Because a woman who could love a man, not for his honest heart, but for his pretty wit, would be hardly worth the pains I should have to take; at least so it seems to me."She remained silent in her turn, and then said to me as she pressed my hand:
"You have much more sense and wit than one might think. And since you force me to be quite frank with you, I will own that, as you now are and even should you never change, I have an esteem and an affection for you which will last as long as my life. Rest assured of that, Bernard, whatever I may say in a moment of anger. You know I have a quick temper--that runs in the family. The blood of the Mauprats will never flow as smoothly as other people's. Have a care for my pride, then, you know so well what pride is, and do not ever presume upon rights you have acquired. Affection cannot be commanded; it must be implored or inspired. Act so that I may always love you; never tell me that I am forced to love you.""That is reasonable enough," I answered; "but why do you sometimes speak to me as if I were forced to obey you? Why, for instance, this evening did you /forbid/ me to drink and /order/ me to study?""Because if one cannot command affection which does not exist, one can at least command affection which does exist; and it is because I am sure yours exists that I commanded it.""Good!" I cried, in a transport of joy; "I have a right then to order yours also, since you have told me that it certainly exists. . . .
Edmee, I order you to kiss me."
"Let go, Bernard!" she cried; "you are breaking my arm. Look, you have scraped it against the bars.""Why have you intrenched yourself against me?" I said, putting my lips to the little scratch I had made on her arm. "Ah, woe is me! Confound the bars! Edmee, if you would only bend your head down I should be able to kiss you . . . kiss you as my sister. Edmee, what are you afraid of?""My good Bernard," she replied, "in the world in which I live one does not kiss even a sister, and nowhere does one kiss in secret. I will kiss you every day before my father, if you like; but never here.""You will never kiss me!" I cried, relapsing into my usual passion.
"What of your promise? What of my rights?""If we marry," she said, in an embarrassed tone, "when you have received the education I implore you to receive, . . .""Death of my life! Is this a jest? Is there any question of marriage between us? None at all. I don't want your fortune, as I have told you.""My fortune and yours are one," she replied. "Bernard, between near relations as we are, mine and thine are words without meaning. Ishould never suspect you of being mercenary. I know that you love me, that you will work to give me proof of this, and that a day will come when your love will no longer make me fear, because I shall be able to accept it in the face of heaven and earth.""If that is your idea," I replied, completely drawn away from my wild passion by the new turn she was giving to my thoughts, "my position is very different; but, to tell you the truth, I must reflect on this; Ihad not realized that this was your meaning.""And how should I have meant otherwise?" she answered. "Is not a woman dishonoured by giving herself to a man who is not her husband? I do not wish to dishonour myself; and, since you love me, you would not wish it either. You would not do me an irreparable wrong. If such were your intention you would be my deadliest enemy.""Stay, Edmee, stay!" I answered. "I can tell you nothing about my intentions in regard to you, for I have never had any very definite. Ihave felt nothing but wild desires, nor have I ever thought of you without going mad. You wish me to marry you? But why--why?""Because a girl who respects herself cannot be any man's except with the thought, with the intention, with the certainty of being his forever. Do you not know that?""There are so many things I do not know or have never thought of.""Education will teach you, Bernard, what you ought to think about the things which must concern you--about your position, your duties, your feelings. At present you see but dimly into your heart and conscience.
And I, who am accustomed to question myself on all subjects and to discipline my life, how can I take for master a man governed by instinct and guided by chance?""For master! For husband! Yes, I understand that you cannot surrender your whole life to an animal such as myself . . . but that is what Ihave never asked of you. No, I tremble to think of it.""And yet, Bernard, you must think of it. Think of it frequently, and when you have done so you will realize the necessity of following my advice, and of bringing your mind into harmony with the new life upon which you have entered since quitting Roche-Mauprat. When you have perceived this necessity you must tell me, and then we will make several necessary resolutions."She withdrew her hand from mine quickly, and I fancy she bade me good-night; but this I did not hear. I stood buried in my thoughts, and when I raised my head to speak to her she was no longer there. I went into the chapel, but she had returned to her room by an upper gallery which communicated with her apartments.
