I am only twenty-eight years old, and my grief at his loss ought not always to control every action and thought of my life.

You, Marguerite, who are the model of a wife, would not believe me if I were to say so." "Why not?
Your heart is so soft and yielding," she said, spitefully.
"Yours is so, too, Marguerite, and yet I did not perceive that you allowed yourself to be overcome by grief when your heart was wounded." These words were in direct allusion to Marguerite's rupture with the superintendent, and were also a veiled but direct reproach made against her friend's heart.
As if she only awaited this signal to discharge her shaft, Marguerite exclaimed, "Well, Elise, it is said you are in love." And she looked fixedly at Madame de Belliere, who blushed against her will.
"Women can never escape slander," replied the marquise, after a moment's pause.
"No one slanders you, Elise." "What!--people say that I am in love, and yet they do not slander me!" "In the first place, if it be true, it is no slander, but simply a scandal-loving report.

In the next place--for you did not allow me to finish what I was saying--the public does not assert that you have abandoned yourself to this passion.

It represents you, on the contrary, as a virtuous but loving woman, defending yourself with claws and teeth, shutting yourself up in your own house as in a fortress; in other respects, as impenetrable as that of Danae, notwithstanding Danae's tower was made of brass." "You are witty, Marguerite," said Madame de Belliere, angrily.
"You always flatter me, Elise.

In short, however, you are reported to be incorruptible and unapproachable.