"This much is certain: no one would speak in such terms of a stranger."
"How do you know that, M. le marquis?" retorted Herminie, gaining ground inch by inch. "I have heard many instances cited of Madame de Beaumesnil's boundless generosity. Her affection for some persons she assisted was, I have heard, as great as that she manifested for the orphan she asked you to protect, and as this girl, you say, is as deserving as she is unfortunate, it seems to me a sufficient explanation of the great interest the countess took in her. Possibly, too, she felt her protection to be a duty. Possibly some friend had confided the girl to Madame de Beaumesnil's care, as that lady in turn confided her to yours."
"But in that case, why should she have laid such stress upon concealing the name of the donor from the person to whom I was to deliver this money?"
"Because Madame de Beaumesnil, in this case, perhaps, as in many others, wished to conceal her benevolence."
And Herminie having now entirely recovered her coolness and composure, presented these arguments with such readiness that the marquis at last began to think that he had been deceived, and that he had suspected Madame de Beaumesnil unjustly.
Then a new idea occurred to him, and he exclaimed:
"But even admitting that the merit and the misfortunes of this orphan are her only claim, do not these conditions seem especially applicable in your own case? Why should it not be you the countess meant?" he asked.
"I knew Madame de Beaumesnil too short a time for me to deserve any such mark of her bounty, M. le marquis; besides, as the countess did not designate me by name, how can I,—I appeal to your own delicacy of feeling,—how can I accept a large sum of money on the mere supposition that it may have been intended for me?"
"All that would be very true if you did not deserve the gift."
"And in what way have I deserved it, M. le marquis?"