Convent Affairs | Page 8

courage, and I read the following letter:
"Owing to an excusable weakness, feeling curious to know what you
would say about me to the countess after you had seen me, I took an
opportunity of asking her to let me know all you said to her on the
following day at latest, for I foresaw that you would pay me a visit in
the afternoon. Her letter, which I enclose, and which I beg you to read,
did not reach me till half an hour after you had left the convent.
"This was the first fatality.
"Not having received that letter when you called, I had not the courage
to see you. This absurd weakness on my part was the second fatality,
but the weakness you will; I hope; forgive. I gave orders to the

lay-sister to tell you that I was ill for the whole day; a very legitimate
excuse; whether true or false, for it was an officious untruth, the
correction of which, was to be found in the words: for the whole day.
You had already left the convent, and I could not possibly send anyone
to run after you, when the old fool informed me of her having told you
that I was engaged.
"This was the third fatality.
"You cannot imagine what I had a mind to do and to say to that foolish
sister; but here one must say or do nothing; one must be patient and
dissemble, thanking God when mistakes are the result of ignorance and
not of wickedness--a very common thing in convents. I foresaw at once,
at least partly; what would happen; and what has actually, happened;
for no reasonable being could, I believe, have foreseen it all. I guessed
that, thinking yourself the victim of a joke, you would be incensed, and
I felt miserable, for I did not see any way of letting you know the truth
before the following Sunday. My heart longed ardently for that day.
Could I possibly imagine that you, would take a resolution not to come
again to our church! I tried to be patient until that Sunday; but when I
found myself disappointed in my hope, my misery became unbearable,
and it will cause my death if you refuse to listen to my justification.
Your letter has made me completely unhappy, and I shall not resist my
despair if you persist in the cruel resolve expressed by your unfeeling
letter. You have considered yourself trifled with; that is all you can say;
but will this letter convince you of your error? And even believing
yourself deceived in the most scandalous manner, you must admit that
to write such an awful letter you must have supposed me an
abominable wretch--a monster, such as a woman of noble birth and of
refined education cannot possibly be. I enclose the two letters you sent
back to me, with the idea of allaying my fears which you cruelly
supposed very different to what they are in reality. I am a better
physiognomist than you, and you must be quite certain that I have not
acted thoughtlessly, for I never thought you capable, I will not say of
crime, but even of an indelicate action. You must have read on my
features the signs only of giddy impudence, and that is not my nature.
You may be the cause of my death, you will certainly make me

miserable for the remainder of my life, if you do not justify yourself; on
my side I think the justification is complete.
"I hope that, even if you feel no interest in my life, you will think that
you are bound in honour to come and speak to me. Come yourself to
recall all you have written; it is your duty, and I deserve it. If you do
not realize the fatal effect produced upon me by your letter, I must
indeed pity you, in spite of my misery, for it proves that you have not
the slightest knowledge of the human heart. But I feel certain that you
will come back, provided the man to whom I trust this letter contrives
to find you. Adieu! I expect life or death from you."
I did not require to read that letter twice; I was ashamed and in despair.
M---- M---- was right. I called the Forlanese, enquired from him
whether he had spoken to her in the morning, and whether she looked
ill. He answered that he had found her looking more unhappy every day,
and that her eyes were red from weeping.
"Go down again and wait," I said to him.
I began to write, and I had not concluded my long screed before the
dawn of day; here are, word by word, the contents of the letter which I
wrote