“Ah! if it had been,” cried she passionately, “and he had said to me, ‘Nicole, do you remember Taverney Maison-Rouge?’ then there would have been no longer a Beausire in the world for me.”
“But I have told you, my dear child, that Gilbert is dead.”
“Ah! perhaps, then, it is for the best,” said Oliva, with a sigh.
“Yes; he would never have loved you, beautiful as you are.”
“Do you, then, think he despised me?”
“No; he rather feared you.”
“That is possible.”
“Then you think it better he is dead?”
“Do not repeat my words; in your mouth they wound me.”
“But it is better for Mademoiselle Oliva. You observe, I abandon Nicole, and speak to Oliva. You have before you a future, happy, rich, and brilliant.”