Can
we complain because our happiness on earth is not eternal? Is it not a
great comfort that we can thus speak together before we part; that I
have been allowed to live to see your dear face, to feel your breath on
my cheek, and to hear your voice? to tell you, with the assurance which
the approach of death gives me, that these sorrows are but for a time,
and that our future joys shall be everlasting? And I must thank you,
Victorine, for your tender care, your constant love. You have made me
happy here; you have helped to fit me for happiness hereafter. It is
owing to you that even this hour has but little bitterness for me. Are
we not happy, dearest; are we not happy even now in each other's love?"
Madame de Lescure had, while her husband was speaking, sunk upon her
knees beside his bed, and was now bathing his hand with her tears.
"I cannot blame you for your tears," he said, "for human nature must
have her way; but my Victorine will remember that she must not give way
to her sorrow, as other women may do.
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