Madeleine replied, in a tremulous tone, "You do not know how deep a wound you are probing, how heavy a grief you"—
"Why should it be a grief? What obstacle impedes your union?"
"An insurmountable obstacle,—one that exists in my own heart."
"How can that be, since that heart is his?"
"Those to whom I owe everything," replied Madeleine, "cherish the anticipation that Maurice will make a brilliant marriage. Even if my cousin looked upon me with partial eyes, could I rob my benefactors of that dearest hope? Could I repay all their benefits to me by causing them such a cruel disappointment? I could never be so ungrateful,—so guilty,—so inhuman. Therefore, I say, the obstacle lies in my own heart: that heart revolts at the very contemplation of such an act. I pray you never to speak to me again on this subject; and give me your word that no one shall ever know what I have just confided to you,—I mean what you suspect—what you suspect, it may be, erroneously!"
"I promise you on the honor of a gentleman."
"Thank you."
A step was heard on the path leading to the summer-house.
Gaston looked towards the open door and said, "It is the count."
At the same moment he withdrew to the window.