--"For a
libertine!" said he, with a lofty grimace of virtue and superior
wealth.
"If you are right, my constancy has some merit, monsieur. That is
all."
After bowing to the officer as a woman bows to dismiss an importune
visitor, she turned away too quickly to see him once more fold his
arms. She unlocked the doors she had closed, and did not see the
threatening gesture which was Crevel's parting greeting. She walked
with a proud, defiant step, like a martyr to the Coliseum, but her
strength was exhausted; she sank on the sofa in her blue room, as if
she were ready to faint, and sat there with her eyes fixed on the
tumble-down summer-house, where her daughter was gossiping with Cousin
Betty.
From the first days of her married life to the present time the
Baroness had loved her husband, as Josephine in the end had loved
Napoleon, with an admiring, maternal, and cowardly devotion. Though
ignorant of the details given her by Crevel, she knew that for twenty
years past Baron Hulot been anything rather than a faithful husband;
but she had sealed her eyes with lead, she had wept in silence, and no
word of reproach had ever escaped her. In return for this angelic
sweetness, she had won her husband's veneration and something
approaching to worship from all who were about her.
A wife's affection for her husband and the respect she pays him are
infectious in a family. Hortense believed her father to be a perfect
model of conjugal affection; as to their son, brought up to admire the
Baron, whom everybody regarded as one of the giants who so effectually
backed Napoleon, he knew that he owed his advancement to his father's
name, position, and credit; and besides, the impressions of childhood
exert an enduring influence.
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