"He came to me next morning, and, without further preamble, addressed me as follows: 'In order to prevent a recurrence of the disgraceful scene of yesterday, I think proper to inform you, that, immediately that decency permits both you and myself to throw off our mourning, it is my intention to celebrate my marriage with Madame Roland, which will compel you to treat her with the respect and deference due to my wife. For certain reasons, it is expedient you should marry before me. You will have as a dowry your mother's fortune, amounting to more than a million francs. From this very day, I shall take the necessary steps to form a suitable match for you, and, for that purpose, I shall accept one of the many offers I have received for your hand.' After this conversation, I lived more alone than ever, never meeting my father except at mealtimes, which generally passed off in the utmost silence. So really dull and lonely was my present existence, that I only waited for my father to propose any suitor he might approve of, to accept him with perfect willingness. Madame Roland, having relinquished all further ill-natured remarks upon the memory of my deceased parent, indemnified herself by inflicting on me the continual pain of seeing her appropriate to herself the various trifles my dear mother had exclusively made use of. Her easy chair, embroidery-frame, the books which composed her private library, even a screen I myself had embroidered for her, and in the centre of which were our united ciphers: this woman laid her sacrilegious hands on all the elegant articles with which my mother's taste and my affection had ornamented her apartments."
"I can well imagine all the horror these profanations must have caused you."
"Still, great as were my sufferings, the state of loneliness, in which I found myself, rendered them even greater."
"And you had no one, no person in whom you could confide?"
"No one; but at this time I received a touching proof of the interest my fate excited, and which might have opened my eyes to the dangers preparing for me. One of the two persons present, during the scene with Madame Roland I so lately described, was a M. Dorval, a worthy old notary, to whom my mother had rendered some signal service. By my father's orders, I never since then entered the salon when strangers were there; I had never, therefore, seen M. Dorval after the eventful day when I spoke so undisguisedly to Madame Roland; great, therefore, was my surprise to see him coming towards me one day, in the park, while I was taking my accustomed walk. 'Mademoiselle,' said he to me, with a mysterious air, 'I am fearful of being observed by your father; here is a letter,—read it, and destroy it immediately,—its contents are most important to you.' So saying, he disappeared as quickly as he came. In the letter he informed me that it was in agitation to marry me to the Marquis d'Harville, and that the match appeared in every respect eligible, inasmuch as every one concurred in bearing testimony to the many excellent qualities of M. d'Harville, who was young, rich, good-looking, and highly distinguished for his talents and mental attainments; yet that the families of two young ladies, with whom he had been on the point of marriage, had abruptly broken off the matches. The notary added that, although entirely ignorant of the cause of these ruptures, he still considered it his duty to apprise me of them, without in the slightest degree insinuating that they originated in any circumstance prejudicial to the high opinion entertained of M. d'Harville. The two young ladies alluded to were, one, the daughter of M. Beauregard, a peer of France; the other, of Lord Dudley. M. Dorval concluded by saying that his motive in making the communication was because my father, in his extreme desire to conclude the marriage, did not appear to attach sufficient importance to the facts now detailed."
"Now you recall it to my recollection," said Rodolph, after some minutes spent in deep meditation on what he had just heard, "I remember that your husband, at intervals of nearly twelve months, told me of two marriages which had been broken off just as they were on the point of taking place, and ascribing their abrupt termination to a difficulty in arranging matters of a mere pecuniary nature."
Madame d'Harville smiled bitterly as she replied:
"You shall know what those motives really were, my lord, very shortly. After reading the letter, so kindly intentioned on the part of the worthy notary, I felt both my uneasiness and curiosity rapidly increase. Who was D'Harville? My father had never mentioned him to me. In vain I ransacked my memory; I could not recollect ever to have heard the name. Soon, however, the current of my thoughts was directed into another channel by the abrupt departure of Madame Roland for Paris. Although the period of her absence was limited to eight days at the utmost, yet my father expressed the deepest grief at even this trifling separation from her. His temper became altogether soured, and his coldness towards me hourly increased; he even went so far as to reply, when one day I inquired after his health, 'I am ill,—and all through you.' 'Through me?' exclaimed I. 'Assuredly, through you; you know full well how indispensable to my happiness is the company of Madame Roland, yet this incomparable woman, who has been so grossly insulted by you, has left me to undertake her present journey solely on your account.' This mark of interest on the part of Madame Roland filled me with the most lively apprehensions of evil, and a vague presentiment floated across my mind that my marriage was in some way or other mixed up with it. I must leave it to your imagination, my lord, to picture the delight of my father upon the return of my future mother-in-law. The next day he sent to desire my company; I found him alone with her. 'I have, for some time,' said he, 'been thinking of establishing you in the world; in another month your mourning will have expired. To-morrow I expect M. d'Harville, a young man possessed of every requisite, both as to fortune and figure, to secure any woman's approbation; he is well looked upon in society, and is capable of securing the happiness of any lady he may seek in marriage. Now, having seen you, though accidentally, his choice has fallen on you. In fact, he is most anxious to obtain your hand. Every pecuniary arrangement is concluded. It therefore remains solely with yourself to be married ere the next six weeks have elapsed. If, on the contrary, from any capricious whim impossible for me to foresee, you think fit to refuse the unlooked-for good offer now before you, it will in no respect alter my own plans, as my marriage will take place, according to my original intention, directly my mourning expires. And, in this latter case, I am bound to inform you that your presence in my house will not be agreeable to me, unless I have your promise to treat my wife with the respect and tenderness to which she is entitled.' 'I understand you,' replied I; 'whether I accept M. d'Harville or no, you will marry; and my only resource will then be to retire to the Convent of the Holy Heart?' 'It will,' answered he, coldly."
"His conduct now ceases to be classed under the term weakness," said Rodolph; "it assumes the form of positive cruelty."
"Shall I tell you, my lord, what has always prevented me from feeling the least resentment at my father's conduct? It is because I have always had a strong presentiment that he would one day pay dearly—too dearly, alas!—for his blind passion for Madame Roland. Thank Heaven, that evil day has not yet arrived!"