"Yes, and through you."
"Will you have the goodness to prove that?"
"I have heard of the wonderful influence you have recently acquired over Mlle. de Beaumesnil. My son, too, has more confidence in you than he has in his mother, and if you had been favourably disposed, this marriage, which had been virtually decided upon, would not have been suddenly broken off for no apparent reason. Yes, there is a mystery about all this which you only can solve. And when I think that Gerald, with his illustrious name, might be the richest landed proprietor in France, but for you, I am,—well, yes, I am,—the most wretched of women and mothers, and I positively weep with rage and chagrin, as you see, monsieur. You are satisfied now, are you not?"
For the proud Duchesse de Senneterre was indeed weeping bitterly.
Had it not been for the deep interest he felt in Gerald and Herminie, M. de Maillefort, not in the least affected by these absurd tears, would have turned his back on this haughty and avaricious woman, who naïvely believed herself the tenderest and most unfortunate of mothers simply because she had left no means untried to secure her son an immense fortune and because this scheme of hers had failed; but desiring above all things to ensure the successful termination of the undertaking entrusted to him, the marquis allowed this ebullition of grief, which did not touch him in the least, to pass unnoticed.
"The mystery you speak of is very simple, it seems to me. Gerald and Mlle. de Beaumesnil like and appreciate each other, but are not the least bit in love, that is all."
"What has love to do with the matter? Are there not plenty of marriages, besides those in royal families, made without love?"
"You must know that I have not requested an important interview with you merely to discuss a question which has been a matter of contention ever since the world began, viz., which is better, a marriage of convenience or a love match. We should never come to any agreement; besides, we have to deal with an accomplished fact: Gerald's marriage with Mlle. de Beaumesnil is now an impossibility, and you may as well make the best of it. That young lady's millions will never belong to your son, who, fine fellow that he is, cares nothing whatever about them."
"Yes, and thanks to such idiotic disinterestedness, or rather such shameful indifference to enhancing the splendour of their name, the scions of our most illustrious houses are lapsing into a disgraceful mediocrity. It was for this very reason that my father and my husband—by neglecting the means of reestablishing the fortune of which that infamous revolution stripped us—left my son and my daughters almost penniless. In the present condition of affairs, I have little chance of marrying off my daughters, while Gerald, if he were rich, could help his sisters pecuniarily, and they would thus be able to secure eligible partis. And you wonder that I am overwhelmed with despair at the ruin of my plans,—at the destruction of my hope of securing for my son a fortune suited to his rank!"
"I suppose that you love Gerald after your fashion. It is not a very commendable fashion, still you do love him, I suppose."