He does not love me as much as you.”

 

“And you, Gertrude, are you suffering to see him leave?”

 

“I think that it is better if he leaves.”

 

“But tell me, are you suffering to see him leave?”

 

“You know very well that it is you that I love, Pastor. Oh! Why are you pulling away your hand? I would not speak to you like this if you were not married. But one does not marry a blind person. So why can we not love each other? Tell me, Pastor, do you think that is evil?”

 

“In love there is never evil.”

 

“I only feel goodness in my heart. I do not want to make Jacques suffer. I do not want to make anyone suffer. I only want to bring happiness.”

 

“Jacques was thinking about asking for your hand.”

 

“Would you let me speak to him before he leaves? I would like to make him understand that he must renounce his love for me. Pastor, you understand, don’t you, that I cannot marry anyone? You will let me speak to him, won’t you?”

 

“This evening.”

 

“No, tomorrow, at the time of his departure.”

 

The sun was setting in an exalted splendor. The air was warm. We both stood up and while we continued talking, we took the dark path toward home.

Second Notebook

25 April

 

I had to wait some time to write this notebook.

 

The snow had finally melted, and as soon as the roads had become practicable again, I had to take care of a large number of obligations that I had been forced to put off during the long time that our village was isolated. Only yesterday did I find some moments of leisure.

 

Last night I reread all that I had written here.

 

Now that I dare to call by their real name the feelings of my heart that I had not admitted for so long, I will explain how I could have been so mistaken. Why certain words of Amélie, which I have reported, seemed mysterious to me. How, after the naïve declarations of Gertrude, I can still doubt that I loved her. That is because, although I could not agree to recognize love being permitted outside of marriage, in the feelings that tied me so passionately towards Gertrude, I did not recognize anything that was forbidden.

 

The naivety of her confessions, and even their frankness, reassured me. I said to myself, “This is a child.” True love does not come without confusion or shame. And, as for me, I was persuaded that I loved her like one loves a sick child. I cared for her like one cares for a sick person, and I made a moral obligation out of taking care of her. Yes, truly, the same evening when she spoke to me as I have reported, I felt my soul so light and joyous that I still was mistaking myself, and that continued as I transcribed this work. And because I believed that such a love would be reprehensible and that I felt that anything reprehensible would affect the soul, since I did not feel my soul to be heavy, I did not believe it was love.

 

I reported these conversations not only as they took place, but also I transcribed them with a similar state of mind. To speak the truth, it was not until rereading them last night that I understood.

 

Soon after the departure of Jacques, our life took on its very calm course once again. I had let Gertrude speak to him, and he only came back for the final days of vacation, staying away from Gertrude or at least not speaking to her in front of me. Gertrude, as arranged, was living at the home of Mlle Louise, and I went to see her each day, but, fearing love, I made pains to speak about nothing that could make us emotional. I only spoke to her as a pastor, and for the most part that was in the presence of Louise. Above all I gave her religious instruction, preparing her for her First Communion which she would take at Easter.

 

On the day of Easter, I also took communion.

 

This calm went on for two weeks. To my surprise, Jacques, who had come to spend one week of vacation with us, did not accompany me to the Holy Table. And I have the great regret to have to say that Amélie, for the first time since we have been married, also abstained. It seemed that they had both given the word to each other and had resolved, by their defection from this solemn rendezvous, to throw a shadow over my joy. Once again, I was happy at this point that Gertrude could not see so that I alone could bear the weight of this shadow. I know Amélie too well and understood that her behavior was a sort of indirect reproach. She never disapproves of me openly, but she shows me her repudiation by a sort of isolation.

 

I was profoundly affected by a grievance of this order.