"Ah, mademoiselle, how can you be so cruel?" murmured Segoffin, despairingly. "If you knew how wretched he is—"
"No, I am not cruel," replied the girl; "at least I do not mean to be. I can only repeat what I said to Suzanne just now. For two days I have been reflecting on the course I ought to pursue, and my decision is irrevocable."
A gloomy silence greeted this announcement. Segoffin was the first to speak.
"You surely will not refuse to hear a letter from M. Cloarek read, mademoiselle," he said, at last. "It is the only request he makes of you, for he foresaw the aversion you would feel for him."
"Aversion!" cried Sabine, like one in mortal agony. Then controlling herself, she added:
"There seems to have been a strange and cruel fatality about all this."
"Yes," answered the old servant, sighing; "but as M. Cloarek is never to see you again, will you not at least listen to the letter I brought to M. Onésime?"
"It is undoubtedly my duty to comply with my father's wishes, so I am ready to listen, M. Onésime."
The young man opened the envelope Segoffin handed him. The letter which Cloarek had written to his daughter was accompanied with the following brief note:
"I implore you to read the enclosed letter to Sabine, my dear Onésime. It is a last proof of esteem and affection I desire to give you.