I went apart to read the letter, the sight of which made my heart beat violently; it ran as follows:
“Dearest,—I see you have placed me in the hands of one who
will care for me like a father. This is a new kindness which
I owe to the goodness of your heart. I will write to you at
whatever address you send me. If you like Veronique, my
darling, do not fear any jealousy from me; I should be wrong
to entertain such a feeling in my present position. I expect
that if you make much of her she will not be able to resist,
and I shall be glad to hear that she is lessening your
sadness. I hope you will write me a few lines before you
go.”
I went up to the marquis and told him to read it. He seemed greatly moved.
“Yes,” said he, “the dear girl will find in me her friend and father, and if she marries my godson and he does not treat her as he ought, he will not possess her long. I shall remember her in my will, and thus when I am dead my care will still continue. But what do you think of her advice as to Veronique? I don’t expect she is exactly a vestal virgin, though I have never heard anything against her.”
I had ordered that the table should be laid for four, so Annette sat down without our having to ask her. Le Duc appeared on the scene, and I told him that if he were ill he might go to bed.
“I am quite well,” said he.
“I am glad to hear it; but don’t trouble now, you shall wait on me when I am at Leghorn.”
I saw that Veronique was delighted at my sending him away, and I resolved then and there to lay siege to her heart. I began by talking to her in a very meaning manner all supper-time, while the marquis entertained Annette. I asked him if he thought I could get a felucca next day to take me to Lerici.
“Yes,” said he, “whenever you like and with as many oarsmen as you please; but I hope you will put off your departure for two or three days.”
“No,” I replied, ogling Veronique, “the delay might cost me too dear.”