“I will see. At all events, Valerie, I will keep you here a few days till something can be arranged. It is now quite dark, and you shall stay here, and sleep on this bed.”
“Or the bed of the river,” replied I; “I care not if it were that, for I should not rise up to misery. I have made a vow, and I repeat, that I never will enter my father’s house again.”
“My dear Valerie,” said the colonel’s wife, in a soothing tone.
“Leave her to me, sister,” said the other, who was busy arranging my hair now that my wounds had stopped bleeding, “I will talk to her. The colonel will be home directly, and you must receive him.”
Madame Allarde, for that was the colonel’s wife’s name, left the room. As soon as she was gone, Madame d’Albret, her sister, said to me, “Valerie, I fear that what you have said you will adhere to, and you will throw yourself into the river.”
“Yes, if I am taken back again,” replied I. “I hope God will forgive me, but I feel I shall, for my mind is overthrown, and I am not sane at times.”
“My poor child, you may go back again to your father’s house, because my sister and her husband, in their position, cannot prevent it, but believe me, you shall not remain there. As long as I have a home to offer, you shall never want one; but you must listen to me. I wish to serve you and to punish your unnatural mother, and I will do so, but Valerie, you must well weigh circumstances before you decide; I say that I can offer you a home, but recollect life is uncertain, and if it pleases God to summon me, you will have a home no longer. What will you do then?—for you will never be able to return to your father’s house.”
“You are very kind, madam,” replied I, “but my resolution is formed, and I will work for my daily bread in any way that I can, rather than return. Put me but in the way of doing that, and I will for ever bless you.”
“You shall never work for your bread while I live, Valerie, but if I die, you will have to do something for your own support, and recollect how friendless you will be, and so young.”
“Can I be more friendless than I am at home, madame?” said I, shaking my head, mournfully.