without disputing them.  The respect shown to established superiority is guarantee for that which is due to you.  Solidarity is the basis of society.  Cardinal Della Rovere and Raffaelle were two powers equally revered.  You have sucked the milk of the Revolution in your academy and your political ideas may be influenced by it; but as you advance in life you will find that crude and ill-defined principles of liberty are powerless to create the happiness of the people.  Before considering, as a Lenoncourt, what an aristocracy ought to be, my common-sense as a woman of the people tells me that societies can exist only through a hierarchy.  You are now at a turning-point in your life, when you must choose wisely.  Be on our side,—­especially now,” she added, laughing, “when it triumphs.”

I was keenly touched by these words, in which the depth of her political feeling mingled with the warmth of affection,—­a combination which gives to women so great a power of persuasion; they know how to give to the keenest arguments a tone of feeling.  In her desire to justify all her husband’s actions Henriette had foreseen the criticisms that would rise in my mind as soon as I saw the servile effects of a courtier’s life upon him.  Monsieur de Mortsauf, king in his own castle and surrounded by an historic halo, had, to my eyes, a certain grandiose dignity.  I was therefore greatly astonished at the distance he placed between the duchess and himself by manners that were nothing less than obsequious.  A slave has his pride and will only serve the greatest despots.  I confess I was humiliated at the degradation of one before whom I trembled as the power that ruled my love.  This inward repulsion made me understand the martyrdom of women of generous souls yoked to men whose meannesses they bury daily.  Respect is a safeguard which protects both great and small alike; each side can hold its own.  I was respectful to the duchess because of my youth; but where others saw only a duchess I saw the mother of my Henriette, and that gave sanctity to my homage.

We reached the great court-yard of Frapesle, where we found the others.  The Comte de Mortsauf presented me very gracefully to the duchess, who examined me with a cold and reserved air.  Madame de Lenoncourt was then a woman fifty-six years of age, wonderfully well preserved and with grand manners.  When I saw the hard blue eyes, the hollow temples, the thin emaciated face, the erect, imposing figure slow of movement, and the yellow whiteness of the skin (reproduced with such brilliancy in the daughter), I recognized the cold type to which my own mother belonged, as quickly as a mineralogist recognizes Swedish iron.  Her language was that of the old court; she pronounced the “oit” like “ait,” and said “frait” for “froid,” “porteux” for “porteurs.”  I was not a courtier, neither was I stiff-backed in my manner to her; in fact I behaved so well that as I passed the countess she said in a low voice, “You are perfect.”