In spite of her resolutions, she had explained to Julien all the details of the auction.
"He will make me forget all my oaths!" she thought.
She would have sacrificed her life without hesitation to save that of her husband if she had seen him in danger.
She was one of those noble, romantic souls who find a source of perpetual remorse equal to that occasioned by the actual perpetration of a crime, in seeing the possibility of a generous action and not doing it.
None the less, there were deadly days when she was not able to banish the imagination of the excessive happiness which she would enjoy if she suddenly became a widow, and were able to marry Julien.
He loved her sons much more than their father did; in spite of his strict justice they were devoted to him.
She quite realised that if she married Julien, it would be necessary to leave that Vergy, whose shades were so dear to her.
She pictured herself living at Paris, and continuing to give her sons an education which would make them admired by everyone.
Her children, herself, and Julien! They would be all perfectly happy!
Strange result of marriage such as the nineteenth century has made it!
The boredom of matrimonial life makes love fade away inevitably, when love has preceded the marriage. But none the less, said a philosopher, married life soon reduces those people who are sufficiently rich not to have to work, to a sense of being utterly bored by all quiet enjoyments.
And among women, it is only arid souls whom it does not predispose to love.
The philosopher's reflection makes me excuse Madame de Renal, but she was not excused in Verrieres, and without her suspecting it, the whole town found its sole topic of interest in the scandal of her intrigue.
As a result of this great affair, the autumn was less boring than usual.
The autumn and part of the winter passed very quickly.
It was necessary to leave the woods of Vergy.
Good Verrieres society began to be indignant at the fact that its anathemas made so little impression on Monsieur de Renal.
Within eight days, several serious personages who made up for their habitual gravity of demeanour by their pleasure in fulfilling missions of this kind, gave him the most cruel suspicions, at the same time utilising the most measured terms.
M. Valenod, who was playing a deep game, had placed Elisa in an aristocratic family of great repute, where there were five women.
Elisa, fearing, so she said, not to find a place during the winter, had only asked from this family about two-thirds of what she had received in the house of the mayor.
The girl hit upon the excellent idea of going to confession at the same time to both the old cure Chelan, and also to the new one, so as to tell both of them in detail about Julien's amours.
The day after his arrival, the abbe Chelan summoned Julien to him at six o'clock in the morning.
"I ask you nothing," he said. "I beg you, and if needs be I insist, that you either leave for the Seminary of Besancon, or for your friend Fouque, who is always ready to provide you with a splendid future.
I have seen to everything and have arranged everything, but you must leave, and not come back to Verrieres for a year."
Julien did not answer.
He was considering whether his honour ought to regard itself offended at the trouble which Chelan, who, after all, was not his father, had taken on his behalf.
"I shall have the honour of seeing you again to-morrow at the same hour," he said finally to the cure.
Chelan, who reckoned on carrying so young a man by storm, talked a great deal.
Julien, cloaked in the most complete humbleness, both of demeanour and expression, did not open his lips.
Eventually he left, and ran to warn Madame de Renal whom he found in despair.
Her husband had just spoken to her with a certain amount of frankness.
The weakness of his character found support in the prospect of the legacy, and had decided him to treat her as perfectly innocent.
He had just confessed to her the strange state in which he had found public opinion in Verrieres.
The public was wrong; it had been misled by jealous tongues. But, after all, what was one to do?
Madame de Renal was, for the moment, under the illusion that Julien would accept the offer of Valenod and stay at Verrieres.
But she was no longer the simple, timid woman that she had been the preceding year. Her fatal passion and remorse had enlightened her. She soon realised the painful truth (while at the same time she listened to her husband), that at any rate a temporary separation had become essential.
When he is far from me, Julien will revert to those ambitious projects which are so natural when one has no money.
And I, Great God!
I am so rich, and my riches are so useless for my happiness.
He will forget me.
Loveable as he is, he will be loved, and he will love.
You unhappy woman. What can I complain of?
Heaven is just. I was not virtuous enough to leave off the crime. Fate robs me of my judgment.
I could easily have bribed Elisa if I had wanted to; nothing was easier.
I did not take the trouble to reflect for a moment.
The mad imagination of love absorbed all my time.
I am ruined.
When Julien apprised Madame de Renal of the terrible news of his departure, he was struck with one thing. He did not find her put forward any selfish objections.
She was evidently making efforts not to cry.
"We have need of firmness, my dear."