“To Beaucaire, to ask Lafourcade the name of Valentine’s husband.”
“You are still thinking of her?”
“She is never absent from my thoughts.”
“You have not given up your idea of going to see her?”
“Of course not.”
“Alas, Gaston! you forget that she whom you once loved is now the wife of another, and possibly the mother of a large family. How do you know that she will consent to see you? Why run the risk of destroying her domestic happiness, and planting seeds of remorse in your own bosom?”
“I know I am a fool; but my folly is dear to me, and I would not cure it if I could.”
The quiet determination of Gaston’s tone convinced Louis that all remonstrances would be unavailing.
Yet he remained the same in his manner and behavior, apparently engrossed in pleasure parties; but, in reality, his only thought was the mail. He always managed to be at the door when the postman came, so that he was the first to receive his brother’s letters.
When he and Gaston were out together at the time of the postman’s visit, he would hurry into the house first, so as to look over the letters which were always laid in a card-basket on the hall table.