a woman of thirty-第16部分

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husband；　who　pressed　her　to　accept　the　young　doctor's　offer。　Yet　she　declined　to　trust　herself　with　Lord　Grenville　until　after　some　further　study　of　his　words　and　manner；　she　could　feel　certain　that　he　had　sufficient　generosity　to　endure　his　pain　in　silence。　She　had　absolute　power　over　him；　and　she　had　begun　to　abuse　that　power　already。　Was　she　not　a　woman？

Montcontour　is　an　old　manor…house　build　upon　the　sandy　cliffs　above　the　Loire；　not　far　from　the　bridge　where　Julie's　journey　was　interrupted　in　1814。　It　is　a　picturesque；　white　chateau；　with　turrets　covered　with　fine　stone　carving　like　Mechlin　lace；　a　chateau　such　as　you　often　see　in　Touraine；　spick　and　span；　ivy　clad；　standing　among　its　groves　of　mulberry　trees　and　vineyards；　with　its　hollow　walks；　its　stone　balustrades；　and　cellars　mined　in　the　rock　escarpments　mirrored　in　the　Loire。　The　roofs　of　Montcontour　gleam　in　the　sun；　the　whole　land　glows　in　the　burning　heat。　Traces　of　the　romantic　charm　of　Spain　and　the　south　hover　about　the　enchanting　spot。　The　breeze　brings　the　scent　of　bell　flowers　and　golden　broom；　the　air　is　soft；　all　about　you　lies　a　sunny　land；　a　land　which　casts　its　dreamy　spell　over　your　soul；　a　land　of　languor　and　of　soft　desire；　a　fair；　sweet…scented　country；　where　pain　is　lulled　to　sleep　and　passion　wakes。　No　heart　is　cold　for　long　beneath　its　clear　sky；　beside　its　sparkling　waters。　One　ambition　dies　after　another；　and　you　sink　into　serene　content　and　repose；　as　the　sun　sinks　at　the　end　of　the　day　swathed　about　with　purple　and　azure。



One　warm　August　evening　in　1821　two　people　were　climbing　the　paths　cut　in　the　crags　above　the　chateau；　doubtless　for　the　sake　of　the　view　from　the　heights　above。　The　two　were　Julie　and　Lord　Grenville；　but　this　Julie　seemed　to　be　a　new　creature。　The　unmistakable　color　of　health　glowed　in　her　face。　Overflowing　vitality　had　brought　a　light　into　her　eyes；　which　sparkled　through　a　moist　film　with　that　liquid　brightness　which　gives　such　irresistible　charm　to　the　eyes　of　children。　She　was　radiant　with　smiles；　she　felt　the　joy　of　living　and　all　the　possibilities　of　life。　From　the　very　way　in　which　she　lifted　her　little　feet；　it　was　easy　to　see　that　no　suffering　trammeled　her　lightest　movements；　there　was　no　heaviness　nor　languor　in　her　eyes；　her　voice；　as　heretofore。　Under　the　white　silk　sunshade　which　screened　her　from　the　hot　sunlight；　she　looked　like　some　young　bride　beneath　her　veil；　or　a　maiden　waiting　to　yield　to　the　magical　enchantments　of　Love。

Arthur　led　her　with　a　lover's　care；　helping　her　up　the　pathway　as　if　she　had　been　a　child；　finding　the　smoothest　ways；　avoiding　the　stones　for　her；　bidding　her　see　glimpses　of　distance；　or　some　flower　beside　the　path；　always　with　the　unfailing　goodness；　the　same　delicate　design　in　all　that　he　did；　the　intuitive　sense　of　this　woman's　wellbeing　seemed　to　be　innate　in　him；　and　as　much；　nay；　perhaps　more；　a　part　of　his　being　as　the　pulse　of　his　own　life。

The　patient　and　her　doctor　went　step　for　step。　There　was　nothing　strange　for　them　in　a　sympathy　which　seemed　to　have　existed　since　the　day　when　they　first　walked　together。　One　will　swayed　them　both；　they　stopped　as　their　senses　received　the　same　impression；　every　word　and　every　glance　told　of　the　same　thought　in　either　mind。　They　had　climbed　up　through　the　vineyards；　and　now　they　turned　to　sit　on　one　of　the　long　white　stones；　quarried　out　of　the　caves　in　the　hillside；　but　Julie　stood　awhile　gazing　out　over　the　landscape。

〃What　a　beautiful　country！〃　she　cried。　〃Let　us　put　up　a　tent　and　live　here。　Victor；　Victor；　do　come　up　here！〃

M。　d'Aiglemont　answered　by　a　halloo　from　below。　He　did　not；　however；　hurry　himself；　merely　giving　his　wife　a　glance　from　time　to　time　when　the　windings　of　the　path　gave　him　a　glimpse　of　her。　Julie　breathed　the　air　with　delight。　She　looked　up　at　Arthur；　giving　him　one　of　those　subtle　glances　in　which　a　clever　woman　can　put　the　whole　of　her　thought。

〃Ah；　I　should　like　to　live　here　always；〃　she　said。　〃Would　it　be　possible　to　tire　of　this　beautiful　valley？What　is　the　picturesque　river　called；　do　you　know？〃

〃That　is　the　Cise。〃

〃The　Cise；〃　she　repeated。　〃And　all　this　country　below；　before　us？〃

〃Those　are　the　low　hills　above　the　Cher。〃

〃And　away　to　the　right？　Ah；　that　is　Tours。　Only　see　how　fine　the　cathedral　towers　look　in　the　distance。〃

She　was　silent；　and　let　fall　the　hand　which　she　had　stretched　out　towards　the　view　upon　Arthur's。　Both　admired　the　wide　landscape　made　up　of　so　much　blended　beauty。　Neither　of　them　spoke。　The　murmuring　voice　of　the　river；　the　pure　air；　and　the　cloudless　heaven　were　all　in　tune　with　their　thronging　thoughts　and　their　youth　and　the　love　in　their　hearts。

〃Oh！　/mon　Dieu/；　how　I　love　this　country！〃　Julie　continued；　with　growing　and　ingenuous　enthusiasm。　〃You　lived　here　for　a　long　while；　did　you　not？〃　she　added　after　a　pause。

A　thrill　ran　through　Lord　Grenville　at　her　words。

〃It　was　down　there；〃　he　said；　in　a　melancholy　voice；　indicating　as　he　spoke　a　cluster　of　walnut　trees　by　the　roadside；　〃that　I；　a　prisoner；　saw　you　for　the　first　time。〃

〃Yes；　but　even　at　that　time　I　felt　very　sad。　This　country　looked　wild　to　me　then；　but　now〃　She　broke　off；　and　Lord　Grenville　did　not　dare　to　look　at　her。

〃All　this　pleasure　I　owe　to　you；〃　Julie　began　at　last；　after　a　long　silence。　〃Only　the　living　can　feel　the　joy　of　life；　and　until　now　have　I　not　been　dead　to　it　all？　You　have　given　me　more　than　health；　you　have　made　me　feel　all　its　worth〃

Women　have　an　inimitable　talent　for　giving　utterance　to　strong　feelings　in　colorless　words；　a　woman's　eloquence　lies　in　tone　and　gesture；　manner　and　glance。　Lord　Grenville　hid　his　face　in　his　hands；　for　his　tears　filled　his　eyes。　This　was　Julie's　first　word　of　thanks　since　they　left　Paris　a　year　ago。

For　a　whole　year　he　had　watched　over　the　Marquise；　putting　his　whole　self　into　the　task。　D'Aiglemont　seconding　him；　he　had　taken　her　first　to　Aix；　then　to　la　Rochelle；　to　be　near　the　sea。　From　moment　to　moment　he　had　watched　the　changes　worked　in　Julie's　shattered　constitution　by　his　wise　and　simple　prescriptions。　He　had　cultivated　her　health　as　an　enthusiastic　gardener　might　cultivate　a　rare　flower。　Yet；　to　all　appearance；　the　Marquise　had　quietly　accepted　Arthur's　skill　and　care　with　the　egoism　of　a　spoiled　Parisienne；　or　like　a　courtesan　who　has　no　idea　of　the　cost　of　things；　nor　of　the　worth　of　a　man；　and　judges　of　both　by　their　comparative　usefulness　to　her。

The　influence　of　places　upon　us　is　a　fact　worth　remarking。　If　melancholy　comes　over　us　by　the　margin　of　a　great　water；　another　indelible　law　of　our　nature　so　orders　it　that　the　mountains　exercise　a　purifying　influence　upon　our　feelings；　and　among　the　hills　passion　gains　in　depth　by　all　that　it　apparently　loses　in　vivacity。　Perhaps　it　was　the　light　of　the　wide　country　by　the　Loire；　the　height　of　the　fair　sloping　hillside　on　which　the　lovers　sat；　that　induced　the　calm　bliss　of　the　moment　when　the　whole　extent　of　the　passion　that　lies　beneath　a　few　insignificant…sounding　words　is　divined　for　the　first　time　with　a　delicious　sense　of　happiness。

Julie　had　scarcely　spoken　the　words　which　had　moved　Lord　Grenville　so　deeply；　when　a　caressing　breeze　ruffled　the