“Your sister has fallen into bad hands,” replied Felix. “It is a shame for any family to have a du Tillet in it,—a man without honor of any kind. If disaster happened to her she would get no pity from him.”
“What woman wants pity?” said the countess, with a convulsive motion. “A man’s sternness is to us our only pardon.”
“This is not the first time that I read your noble heart,” said the count. “A woman who thinks as you do needs no watching.”
“Watching!” she said; “another shame that recoils on you.”
Felix smiled, but Marie blushed. When women are secretly to blame they often show ostensibly the utmost womanly pride. It is a dissimulation of mind for which we ought to be obliged to them. The deception is full of dignity, if not of grandeur. Marie wrote two lines to Nathan under the name of Monsieur Quillet, to tell him that all went well, and sent them by a street porter to the hotel du Mail. That night, at the Opera, Felix thought it very natural that she should wish to leave her box and go to that of her sister, and he waited till du Tillet had left his wife to give Marie his arm and take her there. Who can tell what emotions agitated her as she went through the corridors and entered her sister’s box with a face that was outwardly serene and calm!
“Well?” she said, as soon as they were alone.
Eugenie’s face was an answer; it was bright with a joy which some persons might have attributed to the satisfaction of vanity.
“He can be saved, dear; but for three months only; during which time we must plan some other means of doing it permanently. Madame de Nucingen wants four notes of hand, each for ten thousand francs, endorsed by any one, no matter who, so as not to compromise you. She explained to me how they were made, but I couldn’t understand her. Monsieur Nathan, however, can make them for us. I thought of Schmucke, our old master. I am sure he could be very useful in this emergency; he will endorse the notes. You must add to the four notes a letter in which you guarantee their payment to Madame de Nucingen, and she will give you the money to-morrow. Do the whole thing yourself; don’t trust it to any one. I feel sure that Schmucke will make no objection. To divert all suspicion I told Madame de Nucingen you wanted to oblige our old music-master who was in distress, and I asked her to keep the matter secret.”
“You have the sense of angels! I only hope Madame de Nucingen won’t tell of it until after she gives me the money,” said the countess.
“Schmucke lives in the rue de Nevers on the quai Conti; don’t forget the address, and go yourself.”