Fanny took in a trembling hand the letter which Cherami handed her, and read in an altered voice:
"'I thought, madame, that by marrying you I ensured the happiness of both; I was mistaken; I needed a loving wife to calm and allay the vivacity of my passions; I found in you simply a woman who adored money and pleasure above all else.'"
At that, Fanny paused, and read the remainder of the letter to herself:
"I make no reproaches, madame; a woman cannot recast her nature, especially at your age. Feeling is a gift of nature, as selfishness is a vice of the heart; I judged you ill; it was my fault, not yours. Being unable to enjoy the domestic happiness of which I had dreamed, I tried to replace it by all the enjoyments arising from vanity; I have failed, and I have lost all that I possessed. You, too, are interested in the Bourse; take my advice, madame, and do not speculate."
Again Fanny paused, to heave a tremendous sigh, then read on:
"But, madame, do not fear that I leave you burdened with debts; I have met all my obligations; I have paid everything, and my name will remain without blemish, at all events. You can bear it without a blush."
The young woman made a slight movement of the shoulders, which seemed to indicate that she was not overjoyed because her husband had paid all his debts; she even muttered between her teeth:
"That's a valuable thing for him to leave me--his name! and nothing with it! Ah! there's something more written here."
"I have not touched your _dot_; you will find it intact in the notary's hands. With what you obtain from the sale of our furniture, which is very handsome, and our horses and carriages, you will have enough to live in a modest way. Adieu, Fanny; be happy! I cannot be happy again in this world, and that is why I leave it; adieu!"
The last paragraph seemed to have soothed Fanny's despair in some measure; however, she covered her eyes with her handkerchief, and held it so for some time. Cherami, who had watched her closely while she read her husband's letter, said to himself at that proceeding:
"Oh! it's of no use for you to put your handkerchief to your eyes; I'll bet that you're not crying; and yet--a young husband--to lose him like that, and after hardly six months of married life! There are some women who would have fainted; but she's a strong one!"