It
was evident that, at the time of her aunt's death, Brigitte tried to go
away without seeing me but could not. She was so overwhelmed with emotion
that she could hardly speak, her condition was pitiful, and it was I who
had brought her to it. Not only was she unhappy, but she was insulted in
public, and the man who ought to be her support and her consolation in
such an hour, was the cause of all her troubles.
I felt the wrong I had done her so keenly that I was overcome with shame.
After so many promises, so much useless exaltation, so many plans and
hopes, what had I, in fact, accomplished in three months! I thought I had
a treasure in my heart and there came out of it nothing but malice, the
shadow of a dream, and the misfortune of a woman I adored. For the first
time, I found myself really face to face with myself; Brigitte reproached
me for nothing; she had tried to go away and could not; she was ready to
suffer still. I suddenly asked myself if I ought not to leave her, if it
was not my duty to flee from her and rid her of the scourge of my
presence.
I arose and, passing into the next room, sat down on Brigitte's trunk.
There, I leaned my head on my hand and sat motionless. I looked about me
at the confused piles of goods. Alas! I knew them all; my heart was not
so hardened that it could not be moved by the memories which they
awakened. I began to calculate all the harm I had done; I saw my dear
Brigitte walking under the lindens with her goat beside her.
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