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discourses； d'Arthez grew bolder； and arrived every day at three
o'clock。 He retired at six； and returned at nine； to remain until
midnight； or one in the morning； with the regularity of an ardent and
impatient lover。 The princess was always dressed with more or less
studied elegance at the hour when d'Arthez presented himself。 This
mutual fidelity； the care they each took of their appearance； in fact；
all about them expressed sentiments that neither dared avow； for the
princess discerned very plainly that the great child with whom she had
to do shrank from the combat as much as she desired it。 Nevertheless
d'Arthez put into his mute declarations a respectful awe which was
infinitely pleasing to her。 Both felt； every day； all the more united
because nothing acknowledged or definite checked the course of their
ideas； as occurs between lovers when there are formal demands on one
side； and sincere or coquettish refusals on the other。
Like all men younger than their actual age； d'Arthez was a prey to
those agitating irresolutions which are caused by the force of desires
and the terror of displeasing；a situation which a young woman does
not comprehend when she shares it； but which the princess had too
often deliberately produced not to enjoy its pleasures。 In fact； Diane
enjoyed these delightful juvenilities all the more keenly because she
knew that she could put an end to them at any moment。 She was like a
great artist delighting in the vague； undecided lines of his sketch；
knowing well that in a moment of inspiration he can complete the
masterpiece still waiting to come to birth。 Many a time； seeing
d'Arthez on the point of advancing； she enjoyed stopping him short；
with an imposing air and manner。 She drove back the hidden storms of
that still young heart； raised them again； and stilled them with a
look； holding out her hand to be kissed； or saying some trifling
insignificant words in a tender voice。
These manoeuvres； planned in cold blood； but enchantingly executed；
carved her image deeper and deeper on the soul of that great writer
and thinker whom she revelled in making childlike； confiding； simple；
and almost silly beside her。 And yet she had moments of repulsion
against her own act； moments in which she could not help admiring the
grandeur of such simplicity。 This game of choicest coquetry attached
her； insensibly； to her slave。 At last； however； Diane grew impatient
with an Epictetus of love； and when she thought she had trained him to
the utmost credulity； she set to work to tie a thicker bandage still
over his eyes。
CHAPTER IV
THE CONFESSION OF A PRETTY WOMAN
One evening Daniel found the princess thoughtful； one elbow resting on
a little table； her beautiful blond head bathed in light from the
lamp。 She was toying with a letter which lay on the table…cloth。 When
d'Arthez had seen the paper distinctly； she folded it up； and stuck it
in her belt。
〃What is the matter？〃 asked d'Arthez； 〃you seem distressed。〃
〃I have received a letter from Monsieur de Cadignan；〃 she replied。
〃However great the wrongs he has done me； I cannot help thinking of
his exilewithout family； without sonfrom his native land。〃
These words； said in a soulful voice； betrayed angelic sensibility。
D'Arthez was deeply moved。 The curiosity of the lover became； so to
speak； a psychological and literary curiosity。 He wanted to know the
height that woman had attained； and what were the injuries she thus
forgave； he longed to know how these women of the world； taxed with
frivolity； cold…heartedness； and egotism； could be such angels。
Remembering how the princess had already repulsed him when he first
tried to read that celestial heart； his voice； and he himself；
trembled as he took the transparent； slender hand of the beautiful
Diane with its curving finger…tips； and said；
〃Are we now such friends that you will tell me what you have
suffered？〃
〃Yes；〃 she said； breathing forth the syllable like the most
mellifluous note that Tulou's flute had ever sighed。
Then she fell into a revery； and her eyes were veiled。 Daniel remained
in a state of anxious expectation； impressed with the solemnity of the
occasion。 His poetic imagination made him see； as it were； clouds
slowly dispersing and disclosing to him the sanctuary where the
wounded lamb was kneeling at the divine feet。
〃Well？〃 he said； in a soft； still voice。
Diane looked at the tender petitioner； then she lowered her eyes
slowly； dropping their lids with a movement of noble modesty。 None but
a monster would have been capable of imagining hypocrisy in the
graceful undulation of the neck with which the princess again lifted
her charming head； to look once more into the eager eyes of that great
man。
〃Can I？ ought I？〃 she murmured； with a gesture of hesitation； gazing
at d'Arthez with a sublime expression of dreamy tenderness。 〃Men have
so little faith in things of this kind； they think themselves so
little bound to be discreet！〃
〃Ah！ if you distrust me； why am I here？〃 cried d'Arthez。
〃Oh； friend！〃 she said； giving to the exclamation the grace of an
involuntary avowal； 〃when a woman attaches herself for life； think you
she calculates？ It is not question of refusal （how could I refuse you
anything？）； but the idea of what you may think of me if I speak。 I
would willingly confide to you the strange position in which I am at
my age； but what would you think of a woman who could reveal the
secret wounds of her married life？ Turenne kept his word to robbers；
do I not owe to my torturers the honor of a Turenne？〃
〃Have you passed your word to say nothing？〃
〃Monsieur de Cadignan did not think it necessary to bind me to
secrecy You are asking more than my soul！ Tyrant！ you want me to
bury my honor itself in your breast；〃 she said； casting upon d'Arthez
a look； by which she gave more value to her coming confidence than to
her personal self。
〃You must think me a very ordinary man； if you fear any evil； no
matter what； from me；〃 he said； with ill…concealed bitterness。
〃Forgive me； friend；〃 she replied； taking his hand in hers
caressingly； and letting her fingers wander gently over it。 〃I know
your worth。 You have related to me your whole life； it is noble； it is
beautiful； it is sublime； and worthy of your name； perhaps； in return；
I owe you mine。 But I fear to lower myself in your eyes by relating
secrets which are not wholly mine。 How can you believeyou； a man of
solitude and poesythe horrors of social life？ Ah！ you little think
when you invent your dramas that they are far surpassed by those that
are played in families apparently united。 You are wholly ignorant of
certain gilded sorrows。〃
〃I know all！〃 he cried。
〃No； you know nothing。〃
D'Arthez felt like a man lost on the Alps of a dark night； who sees；
at the first gleam of dawn； a precipice at his feet。 He looked at the
princess with a bewildered air； a