Petty Troubles of Married Life, Second Part
PETTY TROUBLES OF MARRIED LIFE PART SECOND BY HONORE DE BALZAC PREFACE If, reader, you have grasped the intent of this book,--and infinite honor is done you by the supposition: the profoundest author does not always comprehend, I may say never comprehends, the different meanings of his book, nor its bearing, nor the good nor the harm it may do--if, then, you have bestowed some attention upon these little scenes of married life, you have perhaps noticed their color-- "What color?" some grocer will doubtless ask; "books are bound in
"You have no doubt of their reality?" I asked.
"Not the slightest," he replied, gazing at them. "They are genuine
stones, precisely the same in quality and type as Amelia's necklet."
Amelia drew a sigh of relief. "I'll go upstairs," she said slowly,
"and bring down my own for you both to compare with them."
One minute later she rushed down again, breathless. Amelia is far
from slim, and I never before knew her exert herself so actively.
"Charles, Charles!" she cried, "do you know what dreadful thing
has happened? Two of my own stones are gone. He's stolen a couple
of diamonds from my necklet, and sold them back to me."
She held out the rivière. It was all too true. Two gems were
missing--and these two just fitted the empty places!
A light broke in upon me. I clapped my hand to my head. "By Jove,"
I exclaimed, "the little curate is--Colonel Clay!"
Charles clapped his own hand to his brow in turn. "And Jessie," he
cried, "White Heather--that innocent little Scotchwoman! I often
detected a familiar ring in her voice, in spite of the charming
Highland accent. Jessie is--Madame Picardet!"
PETTY TROUBLES OF MARRIED LIFE PART SECOND BY HONORE DE BALZAC PREFACE If, reader, you have grasped the intent of this book,--and infinite honor is done you by the supposition: the profoundest author does not always comprehend, I may say never comprehends, the different meanings of his book, nor its bearing, nor the good nor the harm it may do--if, then, you have bestowed some attention upon these little scenes of married life, you have perhaps noticed their color-- "What color?" some grocer will doubtless ask; "books are bound in