Summary

Portrait of Honoré de Balzac Honoré de Balzac Love in a Mask; Or, Imprudence and Happiness

At last the charming Mask bethought herself once more of her missing party.
"But who are these friends of yours?" said Léon. "Is it your mother, or sister? And, perhaps, a husband?"
"A husband? No, indeed, thank God!"
"You are not married?"
"No, not now."
"What, already a widow? How sorry I am for you!"
"Pray, why should you suppose that I am to be pitied? Are all husbands so kind? Are all men so tender? Is there, on the contrary, one who deserves to be regretted?"
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Honoré de Balzac Honoré de Balzac Love in a Mask; Or, Imprudence and Happiness

I can read your heart; it is useless for your pride to try to conceal the fact from your friend and from yourself. Your heart is no longer in your own keeping; you love, you have given it—"
At this, Mme. de Roselis hid her face in her hands; the tears flowed from her eyes.
"Dear Elinor," said Mme. de Gernancé kindly, drawing nearer to her and taking her in her arms, "when I see you weep, I realize I love you too well to be your judge. Don't grieve any more for an evil that may be remedied. Let us hope that Léon is still alive, and that all may yet be condoned."
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Honoré de Balzac Honoré de Balzac Love in a Mask; Or, Imprudence and Happiness

Léon was asleep, supported on Elinor's shoulder, while she, seated motionless on the edge of the bed with her head bent over her lover's, was vainly endeavoring to check the tears that streamed from her eyes.
Mme. de Gernancé hastened up to the bed.
"What are you doing here, Elinor?" she said in a low whisper. "How imprudent you are!"
"Leave me alone," her friend rejoined. "Nothing will induce me to leave this bed until this unfortunate man is either dead or saved. I don't care who knows that I love him and that I am his; it is a just punishment for my offenses. If only he might live!
Source: Gutenberg

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