We will now add a word or two as to his marriage.
M. de Brévannes occupied the first floor of a house in Paris, which was his own property. Two new lodgers came to live in two small apartments on the fourth story,—they were Bertha Raimond and her father; the mother had been dead for a considerable period.
Pierre Raimond, a copper-plate engraver by profession, had so weakened his eyesight that he could at this period engrave nothing but music. Bertha, who was an admirable musician, gave lessons on the piano; and, thanks to these resources, the father and daughter lived almost in easy circumstances.
Bertha was remarkably handsome, and M. de Brévannes, who frequently met her in the house, was so much attracted by her, that, in his capacity of landlord, he introduced himself to Pierre Raimond.
Brévannes had a detestable idea of human kind, and he confidently trusted, by the use of cajolery, and some presents liberally and propitiously made, to triumph over the virtue of Bertha and the scruples of Pierre Raimond. He was deceived: and, paying the quarter's rent for his humble apartments, the engraver gave notice to quit to M. de Brévannes at the end of the ensuing three months, requesting him, at the same time, in very plain terms, to cease his calls, which had been but very few, however, up to that period.
M. de Brévannes was piqued at his failure; this unexpected resistance irritated his desires and wounded his pride, and his caprice became love, or, at least, had all its ardour and impatience.
Having contrived to obtain certain short conversations with Mademoiselle Raimond, either by following her into the streets when she left her home to give lessons, or meeting her at the residence of one of her pupils, M. de Brévannes contrived to maintain a correspondence with Bertha, who soon became much attached to him. He was young, witty, and had a good address—a face, if not handsome, yet manly and expressive. Bertha did not resist these attractions, but her love was as pure as her imagination, and M. de Brévannes' evil hopes were utterly frustrated. Confessing to him, unaffectedly, that she was not ashamed to disclose her love for him, Bertha added that he was too rich to marry her, and that, therefore, the communication between them must cease—vain as it was for him, and distressing for her.
The end of the quarter came, and Bertha and her father went to reside in one of the most lonely quarters of Paris, in the Rue Poultier, Ile Saint Louis.
This removal gave a fresh wound to the pride and feeling of M. de Brévannes. He discovered the abode of the young girl, pretended a long journey, and went secretly and took a lodging in the Ile Saint Louis, near the street in which Pierre Raimond resided.
The first time Bertha again met M. de Brévannes, she betrayed, by her emotion, the intensity of her sentiments towards him; concealing nothing from him,—neither the joy which his return occasioned to her, nor the cruel tears—yet dear as they were cruel—which she had shed during his absence.