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the very extremity of love。 〃Isn't she wonderful？〃 he asked； with an
implicit confidence in my sympathy which it cost me some ingenuity to
elude。 If he were really in love； well and good！ For although； now
that I had seen her； I stood ready to confess to large possibilities
of fascination on Madame Blumenthal's part； and even to certain
possibilities of sincerity of which my appreciation was vague； yet it
seemed to me less ominous that he should be simply smitten than that
his admiration should pique itself on being discriminating。 It was
on his fundamental simplicity that I counted for a happy termination
of his experiment； and the former of these alternatives seemed to me
the simpler。 I resolved to hold my tongue and let him run his
course。 He had a great deal to say about his happiness； about the
days passing like hours； the hours like minutes； and about Madame
Blumenthal being a 〃revelation。〃 〃She was nothing to…night；〃 he
said； 〃nothing to what she sometimes is in the way of brilliancyin
the way of repartee。 If you could only hear her when she tells her
adventures！〃
〃Adventures？〃 I inquired。 〃Has she had adventures？〃
〃Of the most wonderful sort！〃 cried Pickering； with rapture。 〃She
hasn't vegetated； like me！ She has lived in the tumult of life。
When I listen to her reminiscences； it's like hearing the opening
tumult of one of Beethoven's symphonies as it loses itself in a
triumphant harmony of beauty and faith！〃
I could only lift my eyebrows； but I desired to know before we
separated what he had done with that troublesome conscience of his。
〃I suppose you know； my dear fellow；〃 I said； 〃that you are simply in
love。 That's what they happen to call your state of mind。〃
He replied with a brightening eye； as if he were delighted to hear
it〃So Madame Blumenthal told me only this morning！〃 And seeing； I
suppose； that I was slightly puzzled； 〃 I went to drive with her；〃 he
continued； 〃we drove to Konigstein； to see the old castle。 We
scrambled up into the heart of the ruin and sat for an hour in one of
the crumbling old courts。 Something in the solemn stillness of the
place unloosed my tongue； and while she sat on an ivied stone； on the
edge of the plunging wall； I stood there and made a speech。 She
listened to me； looking at me； breaking off little bits of stone and
letting them drop down into the valley。 At last she got up and
nodded at me two or three times silently； with a smile； as if she
were applauding me for a solo on the violin。 'You are in love；' she
said。 'It's a perfect case！' And for some time she said nothing
more。 But before we left the place she told me that she owed me an
answer to my speech。 She thanked me heartily； but she was afraid
that if she took me at my word she would be taking advantage of my
inexperience。 I had known few women； I was too easily pleased； I
thought her better than she really was。 She had great faults； I must
know her longer and find them out； I must compare her with other
womenwomen younger； simpler； more innocent； more ignorant； and then
if I still did her the honour to think well of her； she would listen
to me again。 I told her that I was not afraid of preferring any
woman in the world to her； and then she repeated； 'Happy man； happy
man！ you are in love； you are in love！'〃
I called upon Madame Blumenthal a couple of days later； in some
agitation of thought。 It has been proved that there are； here and
there； in the world； such people as sincere impostors； certain
characters who cultivate fictitious emotions in perfect good faith。
Even if this clever lady enjoyed poor Pickering's bedazzlement； it
was conceivable that； taking vanity and charity together； she should
care more for his welfare than for her own entertainment； and her
offer to abide by the result of hazardous comparison with other women
was a finer stroke than her reputation had led me to expect。 She
received me in a shabby little sitting…room littered with uncut books
and newspapers； many of which I saw at a glance were French。 One
side of it was occupied by an open piano； surmounted by a jar full of
white roses。 They perfumed the air； they seemed to me to exhale the
pure aroma of Pickering's devotion。 Buried in an arm…chair； the
object of this devotion was reading the Revue des Deux Mondes。 The
purpose of my visit was not to admire Madame Blumenthal on my own
account； but to ascertain how far I might safely leave her to work
her will upon my friend。 She had impugned my sincerity the evening
of the opera； and I was careful on this occasion to abstain from
compliments； and not to place her on her guard against my
penetration。 It is needless to narrate our interview in detail；
indeed； to tell the perfect truth； I was punished for my rash attempt
to surprise her by a temporary eclipse of my own perspicacity。 She
sat there so questioning； so perceptive； so genial； so generous； and
so pretty withal； that I was quite ready at the end of half an hour
to subscribe to the most comprehensive of Pickering's rhapsodies。
She was certainly a wonderful woman。 I have never liked to linger；
in memory； on that half…hour。 The result of it was to prove that
there were many more things in the composition of a woman who； as
Niedermeyer said； had lodged her imagination in the place of her
heart than were dreamt of in my philosophy。 Yet； as I sat there
stroking my hat and balancing the account between nature and art in
my affable hostess； I felt like a very competent philosopher。 She
had said she wished me to tell her everything about our friend； and
she questioned me as to his family； his fortune； his antecedents； and
his character。 All this was natural in a woman who had received a
passionate declaration of love； and it was expressed with an air of
charmed solicitude； a radiant confidence that there was really no
mistake about his being a most distinguished young man； and that if I
chose to be explicit； I might deepen her conviction to disinterested
ecstasy； which might have almost provoked me to invent a good
opinion； if I had not had one ready made。 I told her that she really
knew Pickering better than I did； and that until we met at Homburg I
had not seen him since he was a boy。
〃But he talks to you freely；〃 she answered； 〃I know you are his
confidant。 He has told me certainly a great many things； but I
always feel as if he were keeping something back； as if he were
holding something behind him； and showing me only one hand at once。
He seems often to be hovering on the edge of a secret。 I have had
several friendships in my lifethank Heaven！ but I have had none
more dear to me than this one。 Yet in the midst of it I have the
painful sense of my friend being half afraid of me； of his thinking
me terrible； strange； perhaps a trifle out of my wits。 Poor me！ If
he only knew what a plain good soul I am； and how I only want to know
him and befriend him！〃
These words were full of a plaintive magnanimity which made mistrust
seem cruel。 How much better I might play providence over Pickering's
experiments with life if I could engage the fine instincts of this
charming woman on the providential side！ Pickering's secret was； of
course； his engagement to Miss Vernor； it was natural enough that he
should have been unable to bring himself to talk of it to Madame
Blumenthal。 The simple sweetness of this young girl's face had not
faded from my memory； I could not rid myself of the suspicion that in
going further Pickering might fare much worse。 Madame Blumenthal's
professions seemed a virtual promise to agree with me； and； after
some hesitation； I said that my friend had； in fact； a substantial
secret； and that perhaps I might do him a good turn by putting her in
possession of it。 In as few words as possible I told her that
Pickering stood pledged by filial piety to marry a young lady at
Smyrna。 She listened intently to my story； when I had finished it
there was a faint flush of excitement in each of her cheeks。 She
broke out into a dozen exclamations of admiration and compassion。
〃What a wonderful talewhat a romantic situation！ No wonder poor
Mr。 Pickering seemed restless and unsatisfied； no wonder he wished to
put off the day of submission。 And the poor little girl at Smyrna；
waiting there for the young Western prince like the heroine of an
Eastern tale！ She would give the world to see her photograph； did I
think Mr。 Pickering would show it to her？ But never fear； she would
ask nothing indiscreet！ Yes； it was a marvellous story； and if she
had invented it herself； people would have said it was absurdly
improbable。〃 She left her seat and took several turns about the
room； smiling to herself； and uttering little German cries of
wonderment。 Suddenly she stopped before the piano and broke into a
little laugh； the next moment she buried her face in the great
bouquet of roses。 It was time I s