But then I seized his arm and shook it, saying,

 

“Rather than see you bring trouble to the poor soul of Gertrude,” I cried out impetuously, “Ah! I would prefer never to see you again. I do not need your words! To abuse the infirmity, the innocence, the candor of Gertrude, that is an abominable cowardice that I would not have believed you capable of! And to speak to me about it with that detestable self-assuredness! Hear me well. I am responsible for Gertrude, and I will not accept for you to speak to her, to touch her, or to see her for even one more day.”

 

“But, my father,” he replied in the same tranquil tone that drove me crazy, “you must believe that I respect Gertrude as much as you do. You are very much mistaken if you think that there is anything reprehensible going on. I am not talking about just my behavior, but about my plans and the secret of my heart. I love Gertrude, and I respect her as much as I love her, I tell you. The idea of troubling her, abusing her innocence and her blindness is as abominable to me as it is to you.”

 

Then he said that what he wanted to be for her was a support, a friend, a husband. He did not feel the need to tell me this before he had made the decision to marry her. Gertrude herself was not yet aware of this resolution, and he had decided to speak to me about it first.

 

“Those are the words that I wanted to say to you,” he added, “and you can believe that I have nothing else to confess to you.”

 

These words shocked me. Even while listening to them I could hear my temples beating. I had only been preparing reproaches, but since he took away all reason for me to be indignant, I only felt crippled such that at the end of his speech I could not find anything more to say to him.

 

“Let’s go to sleep,” I finally said after a long silence. I stood up and placed my hand on his shoulder.

 

“Tomorrow I will tell you what I think about all this.”

 

“Tell me at least that you will not be irritated at me any longer.”

 

“I need the night to think about it.”

 

When I found Jacques the next day, it really seemed to me that I was looking at him for the first time. It appeared to me all of a sudden that my son was no longer a child but a young man. Since I had been looking at him as if he were a child, this love he described seemed to be monstrous. I spent the night trying to convince myself that it was, to the contrary, natural and normal. Where did this deep dissatisfaction come from? This only became evident to me a bit later. In the meantime I needed to speak to Jacques and tell him of my decision because an instinct as sound as my conscience was warning me that this marriage must be avoided at any price.

 

I led Jacques to the end of the garden, and it was there that I first asked him,

 

“Have you declared yourself to Gertrude?”

 

“No,” he said to me. “Perhaps she already senses my love, but I have confessed nothing to her.”

 

“Good! You are going to promise me that you will not speak to her anymore.”

 

“My father, I promised myself to obey you, but can I know your reasons?”

 

I hesitated to give them to him, not knowing if those that came first in my mind were the proper ones to begin with. To tell the truth, my conscience rather than logic was dictating my actions.

 

“Gertrude is too young,” I finally said. “Remember that she has not even taken her First Communion. You know that this is not a child like all the others, alas! and that her development has been held back for a long time. No doubt she would be too sensitive, as confident as she is, to the first words of love that she hears. That is precisely why it is important that you not say them to her. To throw her into something that she has no defense against, that would be cowardice. I know that you are not a coward. You say that your feelings are not reprehensible, but I find them at fault because they are too premature. Gertrude has not yet learned to be prudent, and it is up to us to teach her that. This is an affair of conscience.

 

Jacques could always be convinced of something by these simple words, “I appeal to your conscience.” I often used them when he was a child. However while I was looking at him I thought that if Gertrude were here to see him, she certainly would admire this large and trim body which was so straight and supple at the same time, this handsome forehead without wrinkles, this frank look, this face that was still childlike but which suddenly had a somber look. He was bareheaded, and his ashen hair, which was quite long, was curled lightly at his temples and half hid his ears.

 

“And I also want to ask something else of you,” I went on, while standing up from the bench that we were seated upon.