"Strange and abominable creature!"
"Your happiness will be my misery, I know; but at least, in the bosom of your happy love you may perchance have a recollection for me."
"If you sacrifice yourself thus for my interest, you should have waited until what you call my happiness was assured, in order to have made this disclosure to me.
"No, godmother: it is possible that you have more virtue than love, and thus your happiness would have been for ever poisoned. Now, on the contrary, when you know the price of your union with M. de Morville, you can choose, you have in your hands the future of your love for M. de Morville, the fate of Bertha de Brévannes, and of your husband. One word from you to M. de Brévannes as to the Black Book, and he will know that you do not love him, that he is the dupe of a trick of which I am the contriver, and which, instead of bringing his wife to the Hôtel Lambert, in order to make her the more safely fall into the snare that is spreading for her, as well as M. de Hansfeld, he ought to snatch Bertha away from a love as yet innocent; as, in that case, the death of his wife and the prince would be useless to him. This is your duty, godmother. Do it! Unquestionably M. de Brévannes, enraged, will circulate the most atrocious calumnies respecting you. What then? They are but calumnies—it is true M. de Morville may be afflicted at them, believe in them, and smile scornfully when he reflects on the ideal and romantic love he had for you; what then? During the long life in store for you with the prince whom you do not love, and who loves not you, you may repeat boastingly every day,—I have done my duty."
"Accursed be thou—demon sent from hell!" exclaimed Madame de Hansfeld, wildly, "leave me, leave me! Why do you come to enclose me in a frightful circle whence I cannot escape without causing the death of two unfortunates or by casting myself into an abyss of endless despair?"
"You deepen too much the shadows of the picture, godmother; you may step out of the fearful circle of which you speak, and go, with proud and elevated forehead, to the altar with M. de Morville, and pass with him afterwards a joyous and honoured existence."
"Oh! silence! silence!"
"And that, too, without making him perjure his oath, without making him culpable with his mother, for she would invoke blessings on the union which you might form with joy, without shame, without crime, by resting quiet and awaiting events, provoking nothing, doing no' thing, knowing nothing!"
"Oh, silence! silence!"
"Not even encouraging by a hypocritical word the ferocious and interested vengeance of M. de Brévannes, being always calmly polite to him. All is provided, for the Black Book will speak for you; the Black Book will say that in order to render your marriage possible hereafter, M. de Brévannes must not be suspected of loving you, and having calculated upon the vengeance which he will have drawn down on the prince and Bertha. It will also spare you attentions which, if noticed in the world, might arouse M. de Morville's jealousy—I tell you all has been provided for, carefully provided for, godmother."