Alas! am I to regard with sorrow and fear these noble qualities—­these seductive traits that won my love?  Is it because he deserves to be loved more than any being on earth has ever been loved, that I tremble for him!  Valentine, does not such an excess of happiness excite your pity?

Ever since early this morning, I have been suffering torment—­Raymond left me for a few hours—­he went to Gueret; one of his cousins returning from the waters of Neris was to pass through there at ten o’clock, and requested him to meet her at the hotel.  Nothing is more natural, and I have no reason to be alarmed—­yet this short absence disturbs me as much as if it were to last years—­it makes me sad—­it is the first time we have been separated so long a time during these eight blissful days.

Ah! how I love him, and how heavy hangs time on my hands during his absence!

One thought comforts me in my present state of exaltation; I am unequal to any great misfortune....  A fatal piece of news, a painful sight, a false alarm ... a certain dreaded name mingled with one that I adore—­ah! a false report, although immediately contradicted, would kill me on the spot—­I could not live the two minutes it would require to hear the denial—­the truth happily demonstrated.  This thought consoles me—­if my happiness is to end, I shall die with it.

Valentine, it is two o’clock!  Oh! why does Raymond not return?  My heart sinks—­my hand trembles so that I can scarcely hold the pen—­my eyes grow dim....  What can detain him?  He left at eight, and should have returned long ago.  I know well that the relative he went to see might have been delayed on the road—­she may have mistaken the time, women are so ignorant about travelling—­they never understand the timetables.

All this tells me I am wrong to be uneasy—­and yet ...  I shudder at every sound.... his horse is so fiery....  I am astonished that Raymond did not let me read his relative’s letter; he said he had left it on his table ... but I looked on the table and it was not there.  I wished to read the letter so as to find out the exact time he was to be at Gueret, and then I could tell when to expect him home.

But this relative is the mother of the girl he was to have married.... perhaps she still loves him.... is she with her mother?...  Ah! what an absurd idea!  I am so uneasy that I divert my mind by being jealous—­to avoid thinking of possible dangers, I conjure up impossible ones....  Oh! my God! it is not his love I doubt ... his love equals mine—­it is the intensity of his love that frightens me—­it is in this love so pure, so perfect, so divine—­in this complete happiness that the danger lies.  Is it not sinful to idolize one of God’s creatures, when this adoration is due to God alone—­to devote one’s whole existence to a human being, for his sake to forget everything else?  This is the sin before Heaven ...