Pierre raised with pride his head which had been bent with anguish.

“To be worthy of you,” he merely said.

“You did not need to be worthy of me; you, who were already above every one else.  We were betrothed; you only had to guard me.”

“Could not your heart guard itself?”

“Without help, without the support of your presence and affection?”

“Without other help or support than I had myself:  Hope and Remembrance.”

Micheline turned pale.  Each word spoken by Pierre made her feel the unworthiness of her conduct more completely.  She endeavored to find a new excuse: 

“Pierre, you know I was only a child.”

“No,” said the young man, with choked voice, “I see that you were already a woman; a being weak, inconstant, and cruel; who cares not for the love she inspires, and sacrifices all to the love she feels.”

So long as Pierre had only complained, Micheline felt overwhelmed and without strength; but the young man began to accuse.  In a moment the young girl regained her presence of mind and revolted.

“Those are hard words!” she exclaimed.

“Are they not deserved?” cried Pierre, no longer restraining himself.  “You saw me arrive trembling, with eyes full of tears, and not only had you not an affectionate word to greet me with, but you almost accuse me of indifference.  You reproach me with having gone away.  Did you not know my motive for going?  I was betrothed to you; you were rich and I was poor.  To remove this inequality I resolved to make a name.  I sought one of those perilous scientific missions which bring celebrity or death to those who undertake them.  Ah! think not that I went away from you without heart-breaking!  For a year I was almost alone, crushed with fatigue, always in danger; the thought that I was suffering for you supported me.

“When lost in the vast desert, I was sad and discouraged; I invoked you, and your sweet face gave me fresh hope and energy.  I said to myself, ’She is waiting for me.  A day will come when I shall win the prize of all my trouble.’  Well, Micheline, the day has come; here I am, returned, and I ask for my reward.  Is it what I had a right to expect?  While I was running after glory, another, more practical and better advised, stole your heart.  My happiness is destroyed.  You did well to forget me.  The fool who goes so far away from his betrothed does not deserve her faithfulness.  He is cold, indifferent, he does not know how to love!”

These vehement utterances troubled Micheline deeply.  For the first time she understood her betrothed, felt how much he loved her, and regretted not having known it before.  If Pierre had spoken like that before going away, who knows?  Micheline’s feelings might have been quickened.  No doubt she would have loved him.  It would have come naturally.  But Pierre had kept the secret of his passion for the young girl to himself.  It was only despair, and the thought of losing her, that made him give vent to his feelings now.