Mlle H. And now, Manuel Marquis de Champcey, we will try the issue. How often and how vainly do I question my own heart. Were Manuel other than he is, should I pursue him thus? What motive sways my action? Is it love? Ambition? Both? I know not, and will not reflect. There lies the path. Some resistless impulse urges me along, nor will I, can I swerve, till all is won or lost.
Enter Manuel.
Man. Mademoiselle, good evening. Alain informs me that you wish to speak with me.
Mlle H. For a few moments. Your stay at Langeot has been shorter than usual.
Man. I returned a day earlier than I had intended. Respect for the family suggests that I should not be absent on an occasion like the present.
Mlle H. An occasion that gives you an opportunity of showing that you possess moral, as well as physical courage, of no common order.
Man. You are pleased to be enigmatical.
Mlle H. I shall indulge in no enigma that you cannot speedily solve. And now. Manuel, take good heed of what I say, but I warn you do not judge me by a common standard. My nature and my sad dependant lot, place me beyond the pale of those born for a happier fate. From the first hour we met, my heart was drawn insensibly towards you. Still that heart was safe. A mere spark existed, which reason and reflection might have killed; you yourself, in defining the bond of sympathy between us, raised from that spark a flame.
Man. Madame, in justice to myself, I must interrupt you. Never by word or deed have I—
Mlle H. Go on sir, pray do not spare me. Never have you encouraged, you would say. Well, I grant it. Be it so. Your reserve and coldness could not alter me. What fire but burns the fiercer in the frosty air? And yet if you have pride, so too have I, and I will confess that something more exists to keep the flame alive than love. Ambition, and the hope to triumph over one who is a rival. These, I am free to own, would be incentives enough for me, if love existed not.