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Page 38
"Not very gay."
"Mon Dieu! But no matter; go on."
"In the first place, mother, I must confess that I would personally feel
no scruple in marrying again--"
"I should think not! That would be carrying it just a little too far!"
"As to Julia--whom I adore, who loves me sincerely, and who loves you very
much too, whatever you may say--"
"Satisfied of the contrary," said the baroness. "But no matter; proceed."
"As to Julia, I have more confidence than you have in her good sense and
in her good heart; notwithstanding the exalted affection she has preserved
for her father, I am sure that she would understand, that she would
respect my determination, and that she would not love me one whit the
less, especially if her step-father did not happen to be personally
objectionable to her; for you are aware of the extreme violence of her
sympathies and of her antipathies--"
"I am aware of it!" said the baroness, bitterly. "Well, you must give her
a list of your gentlemen friends, the dear little thing, and she will pick
out her own choice for you."
"There is no need of that, good mother," said Clotilde. "The choice has
already been made by the mainly interested party, and I am certain that it
would not be disagreeable to Julia."
"Well, then, my darling, everything is for the best."
"Alas! no. I am going to tell you something that covers me with confusion.
Among all the men we know, the only one who--the only one I like, in fact,
is also the only one who has never been in love with me."
"He must be a savage, then! he cannot but be a savage. But who is he?"
"I have told you, dear mother, the only one of our friends who is not in
love with me--"
"Bah! who is that? Your cousin Pierre?"
"No, but you are not--"
"Monsieur de Lucan!" exclaimed the baroness. "It could not fail to be so!
The very flower of the flock! Mon Dieu, my darling, how very similar our
tastes are, both of us! He is charming, your Lucan, he is charming. Kiss
me, dear--don't look any farther, don't look any farther; he is positively
just the man for us."
"But, mother, since he does not want me!"
"Good! he does not want you now! What nonsense! what do you know about it?
Did you ask him? Besides, it is impossible, my darling; you were made for
each other in all eternity. He is charming, _distingue_, well-bred, rich,
intelligent, everything, in a word--everything."
"Everything, mother, except in love with me."
The baroness exclaiming anew against such a very unlikely thing, Clotilde
exposed to her eyes a series of facts and particulars which left no room
for illusions. The dismayed mother was compelled to resign herself to the
painful conviction that there really was in the world a man of
sufficiently bad taste not to be in love with her daughter, and that this
man unfortunately was Monsieur de Lucan.
She returned slowly to her residence, meditating on the way upon that
strange mystery the explanation of which, however, she was not long to
wait.
CHAPTER II.
TWO FAST FRIENDS.
George-Rene de Lucan was an intimate friend of the Count Pierre de
Moras, Clotilde's cousin. They had been companions in boyhood, in youth,
in travels, and even in battle; for, chance having led them to the United
States at the outbreak of the war of the rebellion, they had deemed it a
favorable opportunity to receive the baptism of fire. Their friendship had
become still more sternly tempered in the midst of these dangers of
warfare sustained fraternally far from their own country. That friendship
had had, moreover, for a long time, a character of rare confidence,
delicacy, and strength. They entertained the highest esteem for each
other, and their mutual confidence was not misplaced. They, however, bore
no resemblance whatever to each other. Pierre de Moras was of tall
stature, blonde as a Scandinavian, handsome and strong as a lion, but as a
good-natured lion. Lucan was dark, slender, elegant and grave. There was
in his cold and gentle accent, in his very bearing, a certain grace
mingled with authority, that was both imposing and charming.
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