faction in finding himself in such company. All the appearances (and nothing here was more than appearance, the luxury of the lady as well as her nobility, her society, and the place she occupied in the world), all these appearances he accepted for realities, and saw them so, his senses aiding.
"Fifteen days after the first visit a liaison commenced. In writing to each other they still talk only friendship, but in the confusion of that time, says a witness, shades, transitions, were but little observed.
"'They loved one another passionately.' As to him, it is quite easy to believe it; as to her, why should we not believe that she was then sincere? This Bonaparte was new ground, a savage to tame, the lion of the day to show about in her chains. For the woman, already beginning to age, this ardour of passion, these kisses, as under the Equator, prove to her that she is still beautiful, and that she will always please. Good enough as a lover, but what of a husband? He makes an offer of his hand—he supplicates her to marry him. After all, what has she to lose? She is at the last extremity, and it is the throwing of a card that she risks. He is young, ambitious, he is Commander-in-Chief of the Interior; during the Directoire it is remembered that he furnished plans for the last Italian campaign, and Carnot is going to give him the chief command in the approaching campaign. It means, perhaps, salvation. Then what does she commit herself to?
