Chapter XVII: Part II: Letters (7)

My dear beloved, I must first of all confess the fault (if it be one) I committed yesterday under the influence of the universal enthusiasm occasioned by the glorious ovation offered to you, so that you may forgive it, even if you see fit to punish me. This is my crime. Whilst you, still in the full flood of your emotion, were thanking the enthusiastic crowd, the councillors of our district approached to congratulate you and at the same time to beg for money for their schools. Madame Lockroy sent them forty francs by Georges. Failing to attract your attention, though they stood behind you, intent upon presenting their money-boxes themselves, they turned to me. In my agitated surprise, I handed them the hundred-franc note I was saving up for my birthday. I gave the note in your name, at the same time reminding them they had already received five hundred from you the day before, through their mayor. He, happening to be present, confirmed my statement. This is my transgression; if you deem it deserving of severity you need not refund the money. If you take into account the delirium and excitement of the occasion you will smile and give me back my poor little mite of which I have great need. In any case you must not scold me too much, for I am very sensitive.

J.

_Wednesday, 8 a.m., June 21st, 1882._

Beloved, thank you for taking me to-day to the mournful and sweet _rendez-vous_ of St. Mandé. I feel as if my sorrow would be less bitter, kneeling at my child's grave than when I am at a distance ... as if my soul could get closer to that of my little beloved, through the earth of her tomb, than anywhere else. I hope you will find your dear daughter in good health, and that we shall both return from this sacred errand resigned to the will of God, though not consoled, for that is no longer possible in this world. Thank you again, my adored one, for sharing with me the sad anniversary that recalls to you the many sorrows of your own life. I am very grateful to you, and I bless you as I love you, with all the strength of my soul.

J.

_Monday, January 1st, 1883._

Dear adored one, I do not know where I may be this time next year, but I am proud and happy to sign my life-certificate for 1883 with this one word: I love you.

JULIETTE.[121]