As he could not induce Dubourg to take the journey, Frédéric decided to ask his father's permission to leave Paris for a fortnight. Not until after long hesitation did he determine upon that step; but his remorse was troublesome, he was constantly tormented by the memory of the poor mute, and he was persuaded that he would be calmer and less conscience-stricken after he had seen her.
For some time past, the count had treated his son most affectionately; convinced that he had entirely forgotten the person who had fascinated him during his stay in Dauphiné, and having no doubt of his love for Mademoiselle de Valmont, the count had entirely laid aside his former sternness of manner with Frédéric; he hoped soon to see the plan he had formed successfully carried out, being confident in advance of the general's consent; so that he was greatly surprised when his son asked his permission to leave Paris for a few days.
The Comte de Montreville's brow became clouded and severe, and Frédéric, who was accustomed to tremble before his father, anxiously awaited his reply.
"Where do you want to go?" asked the count, after a brief silence.
Frédéric attempted to stammer some pretext, but the count did not give him time.
"Don't try to beat about the bush; I don't like it. You are still thinking of a woman who interested you during your journey, and for whom, I know, you committed a thousand follies. I thought, I confess, that you had become reasonable; I thought that the memory of that fancy had long since vanished from your mind—I do not say from your heart, for the heart has no concern in such affairs."
"Ah! father, if you knew her!"
"Enough, monsieur! You do not propose to marry your conquest, I presume? Still, it is possible that you have some wrongs to undo. I do not know this girl. Perhaps you are more culpable than I think; perhaps she whom you seduced, or led astray, is now cast off and abandoned through your fault, and is living in want. If her misfortunes can be mended with money, you may be sure that I will not spare it, monsieur; but I will attend to the business, not you."
"You, father?"
"Yes, monsieur, I; I shall be better able to arrange it than anyone else. So you need not leave Paris now. Besides," the count continued, after a moment's thought, "your presence here is indispensable. The general expects to marry his niece to a young colonel, who will probably arrive in Paris very soon."