"As to you, my good father, take, I beg you, my large ebony chair, in which
I have thought and dreamed so much."
"It shall be placed by the side of mine in my working cabinet, and I shall see you in it every day, seated beside me, as you so often used to sit." Could I tell her this, and restrain my tears?
"Now I should wish to leave some memorials of me to those who took so much interest in me when I was unfortunate. To Madame George I should like to give my writing-desk, of which I have lately made use. This gift will be appropriate," added she, with a sweet smile, "for it was she at the farm who began to teach me to write. As to the venerable curate of Bouqueval, who instructed me in religion, I destine for him the beautiful Christ in my oratory."
"Good, my child."
"I should like to send my bandeau of pearls to good little Rigolette. It is a simple ornament that she can wear on her beautiful black hair; and then, if it were possible, since you know where Martial and La Louve are, in Algiers, I should wish that the courageous woman, who once saved my life, should have my enameled cross. These different pledges of remembrance, my good father, I should wish to have sent to them from Fleure-de Marie."
"I will execute your wishes; have you forgotten none?"
"I believe not, my good father."
"Think carefully: among those who love you, is there not some one very unhappy—as unhappy as your mother and myself; some one finally who regrets as deeply as we do your entrance into the convent?"
The poor child understood me she pressed my hand; a slight blush colored for a moment her pale face.
Anticipating a question which she feared, undoubtedly, to ask me, I said to her, "He is better; they no longer fear for his life."