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The
idea
of
a
bishopric
had
thus
become
associated
with
the
idea
of
Julien
in
the
mind
of
a
woman
,
who
would
sooner
or
later
have
at
her
disposal
the
finest
places
in
the
Church
of
France
.
This
idea
had
not
struck
Julien
at
all
;
at
the
present
time
his
thoughts
were
strictly
limited
to
his
actual
unhappiness
.
Everything
tended
to
intensify
it
.
The
sight
of
his
room
,
for
instance
,
had
become
unbearable
.
When
he
came
back
in
the
evening
with
his
candle
,
each
piece
of
furniture
and
each
little
ornament
seemed
to
become
articulate
,
and
to
announce
harshly
some
new
phase
of
his
unhappiness
.
"
I
have
a
hard
task
before
me
today
,
"
he
said
to
himself
as
he
came
in
with
a
vivacity
which
he
had
not
experienced
for
a
long
time
;
"
let
us
hope
that
the
second
letter
will
be
as
boring
as
the
first
.
"
It
was
more
so
.
What
he
was
copying
seemed
so
absurd
that
he
finished
up
by
transcribing
it
line
for
line
without
thinking
of
the
sense
.
"
It
is
even
more
bombastic
,
"
he
said
to
himself
,
"
than
those
official
documents
of
the
treaty
of
Munster
which
my
professor
of
diplomacy
made
me
copy
out
at
London
.
"
It
was
only
then
that
he
remembered
madame
de
Fervaque
’
s
letters
which
he
had
forgotten
to
give
back
to
the
grave
Spaniard
Don
Diego
Bustos
.
He
found
them
.
They
were
really
almost
as
nonsensical
as
those
of
the
young
Russian
nobleman
.
Their
vagueness
was
unlimited
.
It
meant
everything
and
nothing
.
"
It
’
s
the
Æolian
harp
of
style
,
"
thought
Julien
.
"
The
only
real
thing
I
see
in
the
middle
of
all
these
lofty
thoughts
about
annihilation
,
death
,
infinity
,
etc
.
,
is
an
abominable
fear
of
ridicule
.
"
The
monologue
which
we
have
just
condensed
was
repeated
for
fifteen
days
on
end
.
Falling
off
to
sleep
as
he
copied
out
a
sort
of
commentary
on
the
Apocalypse
,
going
with
a
melancholy
expression
to
deliver
it
the
following
day
,
taking
his
horse
back
to
the
stable
in
the
hope
of
catching
sight
of
Mathilde
’
s
dress
,
working
,
going
in
the
evening
to
the
opera
on
those
evenings
when
madame
de
Fervaques
did
not
come
to
the
Hôtel
de
la
Mole
,
such
were
the
monotonous
events
in
Julien
’
s
life
.
His
life
had
more
interest
,
when
madame
la
Fervaques
visited
the
marquise
;
he
could
then
catch
a
glimpse
of
Mathilde
’
s
eyes
underneath
a
feather
of
the
maréchale
’
s
hat
,
and
he
would
wax
eloquent
.
His
picturesque
and
sentimental
phrases
began
to
assume
a
style
,
which
was
both
more
striking
and
more
elegant
.
He
quite
realised
that
what
he
said
was
absurd
in
Mathilde
’
s
eyes
,
but
he
wished
to
impress
her
by
the
elegance
of
his
diction
.
"
The
falser
my
speeches
are
the
more
I
ought
to
please
,
"
thought
Julien
,
and
he
then
had
the
abominable
audacity
to
exaggerate
certain
elements
in
his
own
character
.
He
soon
appreciated
that
to
avoid
appearing
vulgar
in
the
eyes
of
the
maréchale
it
was
necessary
to
eschew
simple
and
rational
ideas
.
He
would
continue
on
these
lines
,
or
would
cut
short
his
grand
eloquence
according
as
he
saw
appreciation
or
indifference
in
the
eyes
of
the
two
great
ladies
whom
he
had
set
out
to
please
.
Taking
it
all
round
,
his
life
was
less
awful
than
when
his
days
were
passed
in
inaction
.
"
But
,
"
he
said
to
himself
one
evening
,
"
here
I
am
copying
out
the
fifteenth
of
these
abominable
dissertations
;
the
first
fourteen
have
been
duly
delivered
to
the
maréchale
’
s
porter
.
I
shall
have
the
honour
of
filling
all
the
drawers
in
her
escritoire
.
And
yet
she
treats
me
as
though
I
never
wrote
.
What
can
be
the
end
of
all
this
?
Will
my
constancy
bore
her
as
much
as
it
does
me
?
I
must
admit
that
that
Russian
friend
of
Korasoff
’
s
who
was
in
love
with
the
pretty
Quakeress
of
Richmond
,
was
a
terrible
man
in
his
time
;
no
one
could
be
more
overwhelming
.
"
