But the other?

The other was not there, and the absent are in the wrong.

Could this one make him forget the other?  Could a new fancy destroy the strong love which bound him and was ruining him?  Could a love facile and without risk soothe the hidden mischief and diminish the fury of a dangerous passion?  She had all that was required for that, this little fair girl with the tempting lips.

Like Suzanne she was young and charming, like Suzanne she would be loving, and unlike Suzanne, she would be submissive.

Her eyes swimming in their azure, her aquiline nose with its mobile nostrils, her scarlet fleshly lips, her golden hair like ripened corn, her rosy cheeks in which coursed health and life, the slimness of her waist, the delicacy and whiteness of her hand; it all said:  Love me.

And she was a fresh woman ... a fresh woman, eternal temptation.

When he returned to the hotel, he found the Comtesse anxiously waiting for him.

With a smile she handed a large packet, sealed with the episcopal arms.

It was his nomination to the Cure of St. Marie.  He would have to take possession of it immediately.

XCIV.

THE CHANGE.

  “Prayer on that day is said within the gothic church,
  The old men mourn beneath the ancient oak. 
  Resisted are the games but just begun. 
  The village maidens will no longer dance.”

  MME. DE GIRARDIN (Elgire).

The worshippers at Althausen were much surprised the next day to see a priest whom they did not know, officiating without ceremony in the place of their Cure.  He was stout and plain, with an inflamed face, bloated lips, a cynical look, and a thundering voice:  he said Mass in such a hasty and indecorous manner that they went away scandalized.  The handsome Marcel certainly was no longer there, with his sweet and unctuous voice, his evangelic piety, and his eyes which stirred their hearts.

The report spread through the village that the handsome Cure had gone away, and all the gossips at bay grouped in the market-place and watched for Veronica to assail her with questions.  But the old maid-servant to her mortification knew no more about it than the gossips.  She ventured to interrogate her new master, but he slapped her on the back and sent her away to her kitchen-stove.

—­He is disgusting, this old fellow, she said.  For my part I am not going to remain here.  I prefer the Corporal.

Durand had just sat down at table with his daughter, when Marianne with a scared air, looked at Suzanne in a mysterious way, and said to the Captain: 

—­Do you know?  Monsieur le Cure has gone away.

—­Pleasant journey, said Durand.

—­There is a new Cure already in his place.  He said Mass this morning.

—­A new Cure, cried Suzanne; then he has gone away not to return again?