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Bernhardt, Sarah, 1845-1923

"The Idol of Paris"


When Esperance opened the door of the little salon where her father
was waiting, she saw him in such an attitude of distress that she
threw herself at his knees.
"Father, darling father, I ask your pardon. I am ruining your life
just as you begin to reap the harvest of so many noble efforts. You
have been so good to me," she sobbed, "and I must seem to you so
ungrateful. Do not suffer so, I beg you. Take me away with you, let us
go and I will do my best to forget; let us go!"
"But," said the Professor, hesitatingly, "Albert would follow."
The girl rose.
"Oh! no, not that. I wish I could marry Albert without loving him; I
have tried, but I cannot go on to the end, I cannot!"
"You really love the Duke?"
"Father, for a whole year I have struggled against that love."
"Why have you never told me?"
"Because I saw nothing in the Duke's attentions except the agitation
they caused me; and I was too ashamed to speak of it to you. I
thought, considering the position of the Duke, that I was an aspiring
fool. He overheard me talking to Genevieve. When he appeared before
us, I so little expected to see him there at such an hour--six o'clock
in the morning, in the grove--that my heart could not bear the shock,
and I fainted. From that instant I understood how much I loved him. I
had no idea before of the power of love, but now I feel it the master
of my life. I will sacrifice that to your will, father; but I will not
sacrifice the immense happiness of loving.


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