"Heaven forbid, my dear sir! I believe you to be the most honourable man in the world, but—"
"Will you do me the favour, monsieur," said Olivier, rising, "to inform Mlle. de Beaumesnil of the reasons that prompted my decision. I feel sure that when she hears them she will consider me worthy of her esteem, though—"
"But you are worthy of something more than esteem, my dear sir. Such disinterestedness is marvellous, admirable, sublime."
"Such disinterestedness on my part is a very simple thing, monsieur. I love and I am loved in return. The happiness of my life depends upon my approaching marriage."
And Olivier started towards the door.
"But take a few days for reflection, I beseech you, monsieur. Do not be guided by this first rash impulse. Again let me venture to remind you that it means an income of over three million francs from—"
"There is nothing more that you wish to say to me, I suppose, monsieur," said Olivier, interrupting the baron, and bowing, as if to take leave of him.
"Monsieur," exclaimed the baron, desperately, "consider, I beg of you, that this refusal on your part is sure to make Mlle. de Beaumesnil very unhappy; for you must realise that a guardian, a grave, conscientious man like myself, would not have taken the step I have, if he had not been absolutely compelled to do so. In other words, my ward will be made miserable by your refusal,—she will die, perhaps—"
"Monsieur, I beseech you, in my turn, to remember the exceedingly painful position in which you are placing me, a position, in fact, that it is impossible for me to endure longer after the announcement of my approaching marriage, which I have felt it my duty to make."
Again Olivier bowed respectfully to the baron, and again he started towards the door, adding, as he opened it: