MY DEAREST DAUGHTER—I hope that the news I announce will give
you as much joy as it has already given our dear Roland and me.
Sir John, whose heart you doubted, claiming that it was only a
mechanical contrivance, manufactured in the workshops at
Vaucanson, admits that such an opinion was a just one until the
day he saw you; but he maintains that since that day he has a
heart, and that that heart adores you.
Did you suspect it, my dear Amélie, from his aristocratic and
polished manners, when your mother’s eyes failed to discern this
tenderness.
This morning, while breakfasting with your brother, he formally
asked your hand. Your brother received the offer with joy, but
he made no promises at first. The First Consul, before Roland’s
departure for the Vendée, had already spoken of making himself
responsible for your establishment. But since then he has asked to
see Lord Tanlay, and Sir John, though he maintained his national
reserve, was taken into the first Consul’s good graces at once, to
such a degree that he received from him, at their first interview,
a mission to his uncle, Lord Grenville. Sir John started for
England immediately.
I do not know how many days Sir John will be absent, but on his
return he is certain to present himself to you as your betrothed.
Lord Tanlay is still young, pleasing in appearance, and immensely
rich; he is highly connected in England, and Roland’s friend. I
do not know a man who has more right, I will not say to your love,
but to your profound esteem.
The rest of my news I can tell you in two words. The First Consul
is still most kind to me and to your two brothers, and Madame
Bonaparte has let me know that she only awaits your marriage to
place you near her.
There is talk of leaving the Luxembourg, and removing to the
Tuileries. Do you understand the full meaning of this change of
domicile?
Your mother, who loves you,
CLOTILDE DE MONTREVEL.
Without pausing, the young man turned to Roland’s postscript. It was as follows:
You have read, my dear little sister, what our good mother has
written. This marriage is a suitable one under all aspects. It
is not a thing to be childish about; the First Consul wishes you to become Lady Tanlay; that is to say, he wills it.
I am leaving Paris for a few days. Though you may not see me,
you will hear of me.
I kiss you, ROLAND.
“Well, Charles,” asked Amélie, when the young man had finished reading, “what do you think of that?”
“That it is something we had to expect from day to day, my poor angel, but it is none the less terrible.”
“What is to be done?”
“There are three things we can do.”
“Tell me.”
“In the first place, resist if you have the strength; it is the shortest and surest way.”
Amélie dropped her head.