“But—Good Heavens! Emilie, what weakness of mind there is in that but—”
“Is it weakness of mind to fear to disobey my mother—to dread to offend her for ever—to render her unhappy—and to deprive her, perhaps, even of the means of subsistence?”
“The means of subsistence! my dear. This phrase, you know, can only be a figure of rhetoric,” said Mrs. Somers. “Your refusing M. de Brisac cannot deprive your mother of the means of subsistence. In the first place, she expects to recover her property in France.”
“No,” said Emilie; “she has given up these hopes—you have persuaded her that they are vain.”
“Indeed I think them so. But still you must know, my dear, that your mother can never be in want of the means of subsistence, nor any of the conveniences, and, I may add, luxuries of life, whilst I am alive.”
Emilie sighed; and when Mrs. Somers urged her more closely, she said, “Mamma has not, till lately, been accustomed to live on the bounty of others; the sense of dependence produces many painful feelings, and renders people more susceptible than perhaps they would be, were they on terms of equality.”
“To what does all this tend, my dear?” interrupted Mrs. Somers. “Is Mad. de Coulanges offended with me?—Is she tired of living with me?—Does she wish to quit my house?—And where does she intend to go?—Oh! that is a question that I need not ask!—Yes, yes—I have long foreseen it—you have arranged it admirably—you go to Lady Littleton, I presume?”
“Oh, no!”
“To M. de Brisac?”
“Mamma wishes to go—”