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Page 47
"But, mon Dieu! mother, what possible chance is there of such a thing?
Suppose I were willing--and I am far from it--I know no one, no one knows
me."
"There is some one," rejoined Clotilde, with increasing timidity; "some
one whom you know perfectly well, and who--who adores you."
Julia opened her eyes wide with a pensive and surprised expression, and
after a brief pause of reflection:
"Pierre?" she said.
"Yes," murmured Clotilde, pale with anxiety.
Julia's eyebrows became slightly contracted; she raised her head and
remained for a few seconds with her eyes fixed upon the ceiling; then,
with a slight shrug of her shoulders:
"Why not?" she said gravely. "I would as soon have him as any one else!"
Clotilde uttered a feeble cry, and grasping both her daughter's hands:
"You consent?" she said; "you really consent? And may I take your answer
to him?"
"Yes, but you had better change the text of it," said Julia, laughing.
"Oh! my darling, darling dear!" exclaimed Clotilde, covering Julia's hands
with kisses; "but repeat again that it is all true--that by to-morrow you
will not have changed your mind."
"I will not change my mind," said Julia, firmly, in her grave and musical
voice.
She meditated for a moment and then resumed:
"Really, he loves me, that big fellow!"
"Like a madman."
"Poor man! And he is waiting for an answer?"
"With the utmost anxiety."
"Well, go and quiet his fears. We will take up the subject again
to-morrow. I require to put a little order in my thoughts after all this
confusion and excitement, you understand; but you may rest easy. I have
decided."
When Madame de Lucan returned home, Pierre de Moras was waiting for her in
the parlor. He turned very pale when he saw her.
"Pierre!" she said, all panting still, "come and kiss me, you are my son!
Respectfully, if you please, respectfully!" she added laughingly as he
lifted her up and clasped her to his heart.
A little later, he had the gratification of treating in the same manner
the Baroness de Pers, who had been sent for in haste.
"My dear friend," said the baroness, "I am delighted, really delighted,
but you are choking me--yes, yes, it is all for the best, my dear
fellow--but you are literally choking me, I tell you! Reserve yourself, my
friend, reserve yourself!--The dear child! that's quite nice of her, quite
nice! In point of fact, she has a heart of gold! And then she has good
taste, too, for you are very handsome yourself, very handsome, _mon cher_,
very handsome! To be perfectly candid, I always had an idea that, at the
moment of cutting off her hair, she would think the matter over. And she
has such beautiful hair, the poor child!"
And the baroness melted into tears; then addressing the count in the midst
of her sobs:
"You'll not be very unhappy either, by the way; she is a goddess!"
Monsieur de Lucan, though deeply moved by this family tableau, and above
all, by Clotilde's joy, took more coolly that unexpected event. Besides
that he did not generally show himself very demonstrative in public, he
was sad and anxious at heart. The future prospects of this marriage seemed
extremely uncertain to him, and in his profound friendship for the count
he felt alarmed. He had not ventured, through a sentiment of delicate
reserve toward Julia, upon telling him all he thought of her character and
disposition. He strove to banish from his mind as partial and unjust the
opinion he had formed of her; but still he could not help remembering the
terrible child he had known once, at times wild as a hurricane, at others
pensive and wrapped in gloomy reserve; he tried to imagine her such as she
had been described to him since; tall, handsome, ascetic; then he fancied
her suddenly casting her vail to the winds, like one of the fantastic nuns
in "Robert le Diable," and returning swift-footed into the world; of all
these various impressions he composed, in spite of himself, a figure of
Chimera and Sphinx, which he found very difficult to connect with the idea
of domestic happiness.
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