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will use the sand and write a word with the point of her little foot；
her love will find expression even in sleep； in short； she bends the
world to her love。 The Englishwoman； on the contrary； makes her love
bend to the world。 Educated to maintain the icy manners； the Britannic
and egotistic deportment which I described to you； she opens and shuts
her heart with the ease of a British mechanism。 She possesses an
impenetrable mask； which she puts on or takes off phlegmatically。
Passionate as an Italian when no eye sees her； she becomes coldly
dignified before the world。 A lover may well doubt his empire when he
sees the immobility of face； the aloofness of countenance； and hears
the calm voice； with which an Englishwoman leaves her boudoir。
Hypocrisy then becomes indifference； she has forgotten all。
Certainly the woman who can lay aside her love like a garment may be
thought to be capable of changing it。 What tempests arise in the heart
of a man； stirred by wounded self…love； when he sees a woman taking
and dropping and again picking up her love like a piece of embroidery。
These women are too completely mistresses of themselves ever to belong
wholly to you； they are too much under the influence of society ever
to let you reign supreme。 Where a Frenchwoman comforts by a look； or
betrays her impatience with visitors by witty jests； an Englishwoman's
silence is absolute； it irritates the soul and frets the mind。 These
women are so constantly； and； under all circumstances； on their
dignity； that to most of them fashion reigns omnipotent even over
their pleasures。 An Englishwoman forces everything into form； though
in her case the love of form does not produce the sentiment of art。 No
matter what may be said against it； Protestantism and Catholicism
explain the differences which make the love of Frenchwomen so far
superior to the calculating； reasoning love of Englishwomen。
Protestantism doubts； searches； and kills belief； it is the death of
art and love。 Where worldliness is all in all； worldly people must
needs obey； but passionate hearts flee from it； to them its laws are
insupportable。
You can now understand what a shock my self…love received when I found
that Lady Dudley could not live without the world； and that the
English system of two lives was familiar to her。 It was no sacrifice
she felt called upon to make； on the contrary she fell naturally into
two forms of life that were inimical to each other。 When she loved she
loved madly；no woman of any country could be compared to her； but
when the curtain fell upon that fairy scene she banished even the
memory of it。 In public she never answered to a look or a smile； she
was neither mistress nor slave； she was like an ambassadress； obliged
to round her phrases and her elbows； she irritated me by her
composure； and outraged my heart with her decorum。 Thus she degraded
love to a mere need； instead of raising it to an ideal through
enthusiasm。 She expressed neither fear； nor regrets； nor desire； but
at a given hour her tenderness reappeared like a fire suddenly
lighted。
In which of these two women ought I to believe？ I felt； as it were by
a thousand pin…pricks； the infinite differences between Henriette and
Arabella。 When Madame de Mortsauf left me for a while she seemed to
leave to the air the duty of reminding me of her； the folds of her
gown as she went away spoke to the eye； as their undulating sound to
the ear when she returned； infinite tenderness was in the way she
lowered her eyelids and looked on the ground； her voice； that musical
voice； was a continual caress； her words expressed a constant thought；
she was always like unto herself； she did not halve her soul to suit
two atmospheres； one ardent； the other icy。 In short； Madame de
Mortsauf reserved her mind and the flower of her thought to express
her feelings； she was coquettish in ideas with her children and with
me。 But Arabella's mind was never used to make life pleasant； it was
never used at all for my benefit； it existed only for the world and by
the world； and it was spent in sarcasm。 She loved to rend； to bite； as
it were；not for amusement but to satisfy a craving。 Madame de
Mortsauf would have hidden her happiness from every eye； Lady Dudley
chose to exhibit hers to all Paris； and yet with her impenetrable
English mask she kept within conventions even while parading in the
Bois with me。 This mixture of ostentation and dignity； love and
coldness； wounded me constantly； for my soul was both virgin and
passionate； and as I could not pass from one temperature to the other；
my temper suffered。 When I complained （never without precaution）； she
turned her tongue with its triple sting against me； mingling boasts of
her love with those cutting English sarcasms。 As soon as she found
herself in opposition to me； she made it an amusement to hurt my
feelings and humiliate my mind； she kneaded me like dough。 To any
remark of mine as to keeping a medium in all things； she replied by
caricaturing my ideas and exaggerating them。 When I reproached her for
her manner to me； she asked if I wished her to kiss me at the opera
before all Paris； and she said it so seriously that I； knowing her
desire to make people talk； trembled lest she should execute her
threat。 In spite of her real passion she was never meditative； self…
contained； or reverent； like Henriette； on the contrary she was
insatiable as a sandy soil。 Madame de Mortsauf was always composed；
able to feel my soul in an accent or a glance。 Lady Dudley was never
affected by a look； or a pressure of the hand； nor yet by a tender
word。 No proof of love surprised her。 She felt so strong a necessity
for excitement； noise； celebrity； that nothing attained to her ideal
in this respect； hence her violent love； her exaggerated fancy；
everything concerned herself and not me。
The letter you have read from Madame de Mortsauf （a light which still
shone brightly on my life）； a proof of how the most virtuous of women
obeyed the genius of a Frenchwoman； revealing； as it did； her
perpetual vigilance； her sound understanding of all my prospectsthat
letter must have made you see with what care Henriette had studied my
material interests； my political relations； my moral conquests； and
with what ardor she took hold of my life in all permissible
directions。 On such points as these Lady Dudley affected the reticence
of a mere acquaintance。 She never informed herself about my affairs；
nor of my likings or dislikings as a man。 Prodigal for herself without
being generous； she separated too decidedly self…interest and love。
Whereas I knew very well； without proving it； that to save me a pang
Henriette would have sought for me that which she would never seek for
herself。 In any great and overwhelming misfortune I should have gone
for counsel to Henriette； but I would have let myself be dragged to
prison sooner than say a word to Lady Dudley。
Up to this point the contrast relates to feelings； but it was the same
in outward things。 In France； luxury is the expression of the man； the
reproduction of his ideas； of his personal poetry； it portrays the
character； and gives； between lovers； a precious value to every little
attention by keeping before them the dominant thought of the being
loved。 But English luxury； which at first allured me by its choiceness
and delicacy； proved to be mechanical also。 The thousand and one
attentions shown me at Clochegourde Arabella would have considered the
business of servants； each one had his own duty and speciality。 The
choice of the footman was the business of her butler； as if it were a
matter of horses。 She never attached herself to her servants； the
death of the best of them would not have affected her； for money could
replace the one lost by another equally efficient。 As to her duty
towards her neighbor； I never saw a tear in her eye for the
misfortunes of another； in fact her selfishness was so naively candid
that it absolutely created a laugh。 The crimson draperies of the great
lady covered an iron nature。 The delightful siren who sounded at night
every bell of her amorous folly could soon make a young man forget the
hard and unfeeling English