No, I do not love him ... but still...." she murmured
very low.
Genevieve took her friend in her arms.
"Esperance, darling, save yourself! Think of the downfall of your
mother's happiness, think of the fearful remorse of your father. Think
of your godfather's iniquitous triumph. Ah! I beg of you, accept the
Count's love, become his wife, you will be constrained by your loyalty
to save your father's honour. But the Duke...."
"My father's honour is precious to me, and you see, I am defending it
badly," said Esperance. She wept quietly. Genevieve drew her head down
on her shoulder. Esperance kissed her.
"Come, we must go back, it is getting late. I thank you, Genevieve,
and I love you."
A letter arrived the next morning which announced that the Count would
pay them his visit on Thursday.
There were just three days before his coming. Esperance had made up
her mind, after her talk with Genevieve, to accede to her parents'
wishes. She and Genevieve went to inspect the room that had been
prepared for the Count. It was a little square apartment very nicely
arranged. On the floor was a mat with red and white squares. The
windows looked out on the rocky coast. The young people decided to
hang some small variegated laurels from the ceiling to decorate it. On
the mantel they put some flower vases on either side of a plaque
representing the golden wedding of a Breton couple. Mme. Darbois
opened for them what Esperance called her "reliquary," and they found
there flowers and ribbons.
Pages:
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137