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balcony in garlands a la Pompadour concealed the roof； only the lead
cornices were visible。 In this retreat one was a hundred leagues from
Paris。
〃But for the bitter smile which occasionally played on the beautiful
red lips of this pale woman； it would have been possible to believe
that this violet buried in her thicket of flowers was happy。 In a few
days we had reached a certain degree of intimacy； the result of our
close neighborhood and of the Countess' conviction that I was
indifferent to women。 A look would have spoilt all； and I never
allowed a thought of her to be seen in my eyes。 Honorine chose to
regard me as an old friend。 Her manner to me was the outcome of a kind
of pity。 Her looks； her voice； her words； all showed that she was a
hundred miles away from the coquettish airs which the strictest virtue
might have allowed under such circumstances。 She soon gave me the
right to go into the pretty workshop where she made her flowers； a
retreat full of books and curiosities； as smart as a boudoir where
elegance emphasized the vulgarity of the tools of her trade。 The
Countess had in the course of time poetized； as I may say； a thing
which is at the antipodes to poetrya manufacture。
〃Perhaps of all the work a woman can do； the making of artificial
flowers is that of which the details allow her to display most grace。
For coloring prints she must sit bent over a table and devote herself；
with some attention； to this half painting。 Embroidering tapestry； as
diligently as a woman must who is to earn her living by it； entails
consumption or curvature of the spine。 Engraving music is one of the
most laborious； by the care； the minute exactitude； and the
intelligence it demands。 Sewing and white embroidery do not earn
thirty sous a day。 But the making of flowers and light articles of
wear necessitates a variety of movements； gestures； ideas even； which
do not take a pretty woman out of her sphere； she is still herself；
she may chat； laugh； sing； or think。
〃There was certainly a feeling for art in the way in which the
Countess arranged on a long deal table the myriad…colored petals which
were used in composing the flowers she was to produce。 The saucers of
color were of white china； and always clean； arranged in such order
that the eye could at once see the required shade in the scale of
tints。 Thus the aristocratic artist saved time。 A pretty little
cabinet with a hundred tiny drawers； of ebony inlaid with ivory；
contained the little steel moulds in which she shaped the leaves and
some forms of petals。 A fine Japanese bowl held the paste； which was
never allowed to turn sour； and it had a fitted cover with a hinge so
easy that she could lift it with a finger…tip。 The wire； of iron and
brass； lurked in a little drawer of the table before her。
〃Under her eyes； in a Venetian glass； shaped like a flower…cup on its
stem； was the living model she strove to imitate。 She had a passion
for achievement； she attempted the most difficult things； close
racemes； the tiniest corollas； heaths； nectaries of the most
variegated hues。 Her hands； as swift as her thoughts； went from the
table to the flower she was making； as those of an accomplished
pianist fly over the keys。 Her fingers seemed to be fairies； to use
Perrault's expression； so infinite were the different actions of
twisting； fitting； and pressure needed for the work； all hidden under
grace of movement； while she adapted each motion to the result with
the lucidity of instinct。
〃I could not tire of admiring her as she shaped a flower from the
materials sorted before her； padding the wire stem and adjusting the
leaves。 She displayed the genius of a painter in her bold attempts；
she copied faded flowers and yellowing leaves； she struggled even with
wildflowers； the most artless of all； and the most elaborate in their
simplicity。
〃 'This art；' she would say； 'is in its infancy。 If the women of Paris
had a little of the genius which the slavery of the harem brings out
in Oriental women； they would lend a complete language of flowers to
the wreaths they wear on their head。 To please my own taste as an
artist I have made drooping flowers with leaves of the hue of
Florentine bronze； such as are found before or after the winter。 Would
not such a crown on the head of a young woman whose life is a failure
have a certain poetical fitness？ How many things a woman might express
by her head…dress！ Are there not flowers for drunken Bacchantes；
flowers for gloomy and stern bigots； pensive flowers for women who are
bored？ Botany； I believe； may be made to express every sensation and
thought of the soul； even the most subtle。'
〃She would employ me to stamp out the leaves； cut up material； and
prepare wires for the stems。 My affected desire for occupation made me
soon skilful。 We talked as we worked。 When I had nothing to do； I read
new books to her； for I had my part to keep up as a man weary of life；
worn out with griefs； gloomy； sceptical； and soured。 My person led to
adorable banter as to my purely physical resemblancewith the
exception of his club footto Lord Byron。 It was tacitly acknowledged
that her own troubles； as to which she kept the most profound silence；
far outweighed mine； though the causes I assigned for my misanthropy
might have satisfied Young or Job。
〃I will say nothing of the feelings of shame which tormented me as I
inflicted on my heart； like the beggars in the street； false wounds to
excite the compassion of that enchanting woman。 I soon appreciated the
extent of my devotedness by learning to estimate the baseness of a
spy。 The expressions of sympathy bestowed on me would have comforted
the greatest grief。 This charming creature； weaned from the world； and
for so many years alone； having； besides love； treasures of kindliness
to bestow； offered these to me with childlike effusiveness and such
compassion as would inevitably have filled with bitterness any
profligate who should have fallen in love with her； for； alas； it was
all charity； all sheer pity。 Her renunciation of love； her dread of
what is called happiness for women； she proclaimed with equal
vehemence and candor。 These happy days proved to me that a woman's
friendship is far superior to her love。
〃I suffered the revelations of my sorrows to be dragged from me with
as many grimaces as a young lady allows herself before sitting down to
the piano； so conscious are they of the annoyance that will follow。 As
you may imagine； the necessity for overcoming my dislike to speak had
induced the Countess to strengthen the bonds of our intimacy； but she
found in me so exact a counterpart of her own antipathy to love； that
I fancied she was well content with the chance which had brought to
her desert island a sort of Man Friday。 Solitude was perhaps beginning
to weigh on her。 At the same time； there was nothing of the coquette
in her； nothing survived of the woman； she did not feel that she had a
heart； she told me； excepting in the ideal world where she found
refuge。 I involuntarily compared these two liveshers and the
Count's：his； all activity； agitation； and emotion； hers； all
inaction； quiescence； and stagnation。 The woman and the man were
admirably obedient to their nature。 My misanthropy allowed me to utter
cynical sallies against men and women both； and I indulged in them；
hoping to bring Honorine to the confidential point； but she was not to
be caught in any trap； and I began to understand that mulish obstinacy
which is commoner among women than is generally supposed。
〃 'The Orientals are right；' I said to her one evening； 'when they
shut you up and regard you merely as the playthings of their pleasure。
Europe has been well punished for having admitted you to form an
element of society and for accepting you on an equal footing。 In my
opinion； woman is the most dishonorable and cowardly being to be
found。 Nay； and that is where her charm lies。 Where would be the
pleasure of hunting a tame thing？ When once a woman has inspired a
man's passion； she is to him for ever sacred； in his eyes she is
hedged round by an imprescriptible prerogative。 In men gratitude for
past delights is eternal。 Though he sho