Seeing how deeply Olivier was wounded, Ernestine felt as if her heart would break. Tears gushed from her eyes, and, clasping her hands beseechingly, she faltered:
"Forgive me, M. Olivier! Oh, forgive me!"
There was such a touching simplicity in the words in which the young girl thus implored forgiveness for being the richest heiress in France, that everybody, even to the baron and Madame de Senneterre, was deeply affected, and even Olivier felt the tears rise to his eyes.
M. de Maillefort felt that it was quite time to make a clear statement of the facts of the case, and effectually silence Olivier's scruples, for the hunchback perceived that the young man was not only amazed and bewildered by the deception Mlle. de Beaumesnil had practised, but that he was also suffering cruelly from the conflict between devoted love and extreme sensitiveness that was raging in his breast.
"Will you have the goodness, M. Olivier, and you, too, commander, to give me your attention for a few moments," said the marquis, "and this mystery, which must both astonish and annoy you, shall be explained. Mlle. de Beaumesnil, an orphan immensely wealthy, very young, and too ingenuous herself to suspect the avaricious motives of those around her, believed the exaggerated praise and the protestations of affection lavished upon her, until, one day, an old friend of her mother's, who was unfortunately powerless to protect her from them, felt that he must at least warn her against the flattery, baseness, deceit, and cupidity of those around her, and assured her that whatever might be the pretext for the devotion manifested towards her, her enormous fortune was the sole cause of it. This revelation was a terrible blow to Mlle. de Beaumesnil. Afterwards, tormented by the fear that she would never be loved except for her wealth, she began to find this distrust of everybody and everything intolerable. So, there being no one to whom she could turn for counsel and encouragement, Mlle. de Beaumesnil courageously resolved to ascertain her real value, inasmuch as this knowledge would enable her to judge of the sincerity of the adulations and attentions that beset her on every side. But how was she to discover the truth? There seemed to be only one way, viz., to divest herself of the prestige that enveloped the rich heiress, and to present herself to entire strangers as a poor and obscure orphan who was obliged to labour hard for her daily bread."
"Enough, monsieur, enough!" cried Olivier, in tones of the deepest admiration. "I understand it all now. What courage she displayed!"
"And she did that?" exclaimed Commander Bernard, clasping his hands ecstatically. "What a brave girl to subject herself to such a test! But I might have known it! A girl who would throw herself under a wagon wheel to prevent me from being crushed by it—!"
"You hear what your uncle says, M. Olivier," said the marquis, "and, whatever Mlle. de Beaumesnil's position may be now, have you not still a heavy debt of gratitude to pay?"
"Ah, monsieur," exclaimed Olivier, "this debt of gratitude, the sacred cause of the deepest affection, I hoped to repay by imploring Mlle. de Beaumesnil to share my lot,—a lot much more fortunate than hers, as I supposed, for I believed her to be both poor and friendless. But now, I—I—"
"One word more, M. Olivier," hastily interrupted the marquis; "Mlle. de Beaumesnil and I both knew and respected your extreme sensitiveness and pride, so, to spare you the slightest feeling of self-reproach, we arranged with M. de la Rochaiguë here to offer to you the alternative of breaking a sacred promise made to a young girl you believed poor and friendless, or of refusing Mlle. de Beaumesnil's hand. You stood this severe test nobly, unhesitatingly sacrificing the certainty of a fabulously rich marriage to your affection for a poor little embroideress. What greater proof of disinterestedness could you or any one give?"