“All this, my sister, does not inform me what quarrel you have had with her.”
“None, Philippe, I assure you. Had you any when you left her? Oh, she is ungrateful!”
“We must pardon her, Andrée; she is a little spoiled by flattery, but she has a good heart.”
“Witness what she has done for you, Philippe.”
“What has she done?”
“You have already forgotten. I have a better memory, and with one stroke pay off your debts and my own.”
“Very dear, it seems to me, Andrée—to renounce the world at your age, and with your beauty. Take care, dear sister, if you renounce it young, you will regret it old, and will return to it when the time will be passed, and you have outlived all your friends.”
“You do not reason thus for yourself, brother. You are so little careful of your fortunes, that when a hundred others would have acquired titles and gold, you have only said—she is capricious, she is perfidious, and a coquette, and I prefer not to serve her. Therefore, you have renounced the world, though you have not entered into a monastery.”
“You are right, sister; and were it not for our father——”
“Our father! Ah, Philippe! do not speak of him,” replied Andrée, bitterly. “A father should be a support to his children, or accept their support. But what does ours do? Could you confide a secret to M. de Taverney, or do you believe him capable of confiding in you? M. de Taverney is made to live alone in this world.”