"You may love,—the prince has given you liberty."
"I know it,—I know it; but he has often recurred to those harsh words. How often has he passed from the most chilling, most disdainful, most overwhelming cruelty, to language of most affectionate tenderness. But what avails it now! his cruelties, and his tenderness, alike find me unmoved; my love gives me courage to brave them; my love! and still my conscience reproaches me for forgetting Raphael!
"Since I have seen M. de Brévannes again, it seems to me, that in redoubling my hatred against this murderer, I seek to expiate my inconstancy; it seems to me, indeed, that if I obtained a sweeping revenge against this man, my fresh love would be excused; and then, again—wretch that I am!—has this fresh love need of any excuse? An insurmountable barrier separates me for ever from M. de Morville."
"An insurmountable barrier?" said Iris.
"Yes, some fatality pursues me; my soul was being renewed; the most delightful future was opening to me; I believed myself assured of the love of M. de Morville. I had contrived to form an intimacy with Madame de Lormoy, one of his relatives; he had begged to be introduced to me, when, suddenly, he appeared to feel towards me the most intense hatred, and avoided a meeting with so offensive a pertinacity, that I resolved on the step which I have to-day put into execution."
"And what was the cause of his hatred, godmother?"
"Oh, it is not hatred,—he loves me, my girl—loves me as passionately as I love him, although I have concealed my infatuation from him. But, I repeat to you, an insurmountable obstacle separates us for ever. To tell you what I have suffered at this disclosure, and the energy it required to maintain my composure, would be impossible. Well! still I might have accepted this position almost with happiness, but for this infernal Brévannes."
"How?"
"Devoted entirely to this sad and pure love, I would never again have seen M. de Morville; but, at least, I should have known that he loved me as I love him. Human nature is so fantastical, that the reasons which opposed themselves to this love being happy would, perhaps, have assured its permanency; but if M. de Brévannes speaks, misery—misery for me! Then contempt would succeed to the adoration now in the heart of M. de Morville; and he, so frank, so noble, would not then find sufficient disdain to overwhelm me. Despised by him, ah! I know what I have suffered when I thought myself the sole possessor of this fatal secret; and to think that Brévannes could direct this heavy blow at me by again spreading the infamous calumny which caused Raphael's death,—it is enough to drive one mad!"
"From all this, godmother, two things result. You must learn the mystery which impels Morville to avoid you, and you must reduce Charles de Brévannes to silence."