He seems a good fellow; the
affectations of the angelic school have answered his purpose and
succeeded, just as a woman succeeds when she plays the ingenue
cleverly, and simulates surprise, youth, innocence betrayed, in short,
the wounded angel.
Modeste, recovering her first impression, renewed her confidence in
that soul, in that countenance as ravishing as the face of Bernardin de
Saint-Pierre. She paid no further attention to the publisher. And so,
about the beginning of the month of August she wrote the following
letter to this Dorat of the sacristy, who still ranks as a star of the
modern Pleiades.
To Monsieur de Canalis,--Many a time, monsieur, I have wished to
write to you; and why? Surely you guess why,--to tell you how much
I admire your genius. Yes, I feel the need of expressing to you
the admiration of a poor country girl, lonely in her little
corner, whose only happiness is to read your thoughts. I have read
Rene, and I come to you. Sadness leads to reverie. How many other
women are sending you the homage of their secret thoughts? What
chance have I for notice among so many? This paper, filled with my
soul,--can it be more to you than the perfumed letters which
already beset you.
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