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Although
Madame
de
Rênal
had
never
thought
of
the
ories
of
love
,
difference
in
age
is
next
to
difference
in
fortune
,
one
of
the
great
commonplaces
of
provincial
witticisms
,
whenever
love
is
the
topic
of
conversation
.
In
a
few
days
Julien
surrendered
himself
with
all
the
ardour
of
his
age
,
and
was
desperately
in
love
.
"
One
must
own
,
"
he
said
to
himself
,
"
that
she
has
an
angelic
kindness
of
soul
,
and
no
one
in
the
world
is
prettier
.
"
He
had
almost
completely
given
up
playing
a
part
.
In
a
moment
of
abandon
,
he
even
confessed
to
her
all
his
nervousness
.
This
confidence
raised
the
passion
which
he
was
inspiring
to
its
zenith
.
"
And
I
have
no
lucky
rival
after
all
,
"
said
Madame
de
Rênal
to
herself
with
delight
.
She
ventured
to
question
him
on
the
portrait
in
which
he
used
to
be
so
interested
.
Julien
swore
to
her
that
it
was
that
of
a
man
.
When
Madame
de
Rênal
had
enough
presence
of
mind
left
to
reflect
,
she
did
not
recover
from
her
astonishment
that
so
great
a
happiness
could
exist
;
and
that
she
had
never
had
anything
of
.
"
Oh
,
"
she
said
to
herself
,
"
if
I
had
only
known
Julien
ten
years
ago
when
I
was
still
considered
pretty
.
"
Julien
was
far
from
having
thoughts
like
these
.
His
love
was
still
akin
to
ambition
.
It
was
the
joy
of
possessing
,
poor
,
unfortunate
and
despised
as
he
was
,
so
beautiful
a
woman
.
His
acts
of
devotion
,
and
his
ecstacies
at
the
sight
of
his
mistress
’
s
charms
finished
by
reassuring
her
a
little
with
regard
to
the
difference
of
age
.
If
she
had
possessed
a
little
of
that
knowledge
of
life
which
the
woman
of
thirty
has
enjoyed
in
the
more
civilised
of
countries
for
quite
a
long
time
,
she
would
have
trembled
for
the
duration
of
a
love
,
which
only
seemed
to
thrive
on
novelty
and
the
intoxication
of
a
young
man
’
s
vanity
.
In
those
moments
when
he
forgot
his
ambition
,
Julien
admired
ecstatically
even
the
hats
and
even
the
dresses
of
Madame
de
Rênal
.
He
could
not
sate
himself
with
the
pleasure
of
smelling
their
perfume
.
He
would
open
her
mirrored
cupboard
,
and
remain
hours
on
end
admiring
the
beauty
and
the
order
of
everything
that
he
found
there
.
His
love
leaned
on
him
and
looked
at
him
.
He
was
looking
at
those
jewels
and
those
dresses
which
had
had
been
her
wedding
presents
.
"
I
might
have
married
a
man
like
that
,
"
thought
Madame
de
Rênal
sometimes
.
"
What
a
fiery
soul
!
What
a
delightful
life
one
would
have
with
him
?
"
As
for
Julien
,
he
had
never
been
so
near
to
those
terrible
instruments
of
feminine
artillery
.
"
It
is
impossible
,
"
he
said
to
himself
"
for
there
to
be
anything
more
beautiful
in
Paris
.
"
He
could
find
no
flaw
in
his
happiness
.
The
sincere
admiration
and
ecstacies
of
his
mistress
would
frequently
make
him
forget
that
silly
pose
which
had
rendered
him
so
stiff
and
almost
ridiculous
during
the
first
moments
of
the
intrigue
.
