"Oh! of course—I had no claim—there was no reason why I should know—and still, I should have thought——"
"Besides, it is possible that the general hasn't mentioned his plans to his niece as yet."
"And this is the reason why I must stay in Paris?"
"To be sure; at such times, there are innumerable details to be attended to—clothes and presents and wedding festivities; the general, being accustomed to camp life, knows nothing about such things; a bachelor always needs advice, and he relies on you to help him."
"Indeed! that's very kind of him; I am highly flattered that he considers me good enough for that."
"So, Frédéric, I say again that you must not think of leaving Paris now."
This argument was no longer necessary. The count left the house to call upon his old friend, to whom he had something to say privately; and Frédéric, long after his father's departure, was completely crushed by what he had learned. Poor Sister Anne! your image had vanished.
Pale and excited, hardly able to breathe, Frédéric paced the floor of his apartment, now throwing himself into a chair for a moment, then springing abruptly to his feet, sighing, and clenching his fists convulsively. It was in that frame of mind that Dubourg found him when he came to bid him good-bye, for Frédéric had told him of his projected journey.
"What in God's name is the matter, Frédéric?" he said, pausing in the doorway, alarmed to see him in that condition. "Come, won't you speak, instead of rushing about like this and banging the furniture?"
"Who would have believed it? who would have thought it?" said Frédéric, dropping into a chair. "Ah! these women!"