Dorsain, who was present, ventured to put in a word in this place. “Really Lisette,” he said, “I would caution you not to urge Caliste too much, she looks exceedingly ill.”
“Monsieur D’Elsac,” replied the Rosiere, “allow us young people, I entreat, to settle this matter amongst ourselves. We shall fight it out very amicably together, but when others interfere with us it only makes matters worse.”
The quiet man drew back, only venturing to say, “Well Mam’selle Lisette, do as you propose; settle the matter, amongst yourselves, but let it be quite among yourselves—let no fourth person be brought in.”
“Well said, uncle Dorsain!” exclaimed Mimi; “well said, uncle Dorsain! Mind, Lisette, you are not to ask our father to command Caliste to do as you please; mind that, Lisette—mind that.”
“You are all against me, I see,” replied Lisette, shedding tears for very passion—“you are all against me; but I might have expected it. I might have known others would be annoyed at any preference shown to me.”
She left the room as she spoke, and in half
an hour afterwards Caliste was sent for by her father, who commanded her to accompany her sister to the chapel.
“I will obey you, sir!” exclaimed Caliste, proudly, as she raised her throbbing head, and gazed fixedly on her father. “Yes, I will obey you, sir, whatever it may cost me!”
Dorsain was alarmed by the wild expression of her eye as she spoke, and he even ventured to hint his fears to Valmont on her departure, but the father laughed them to scorn, declaring it was, as Lisette said, mere jealousy; and if she stayed away from the ceremony it would injure her character fearfully in all Salency.
“She must learn to command herself,” he added, “she is now nineteen; and if she cannot command herself now, what will become of her?”