But fortunately, or unfortunately, my hero and heroine frequently walked in the same direction, (drawn probably by some mesmeric attraction)—by degrees they became strongly attached to each other, and finally, an engagement of marriage took place.
A hint from one of the servants, who had met the lovers in one of their walks, made madame send the young lady directly to the convent of St. Germain, for her communion. She was ordered never to think of marriage, (for Eleonore had immediately confessed her engagement,) she must make herself useful in the family to whom she owed every thing, and work she must and should for them all her life.
Eleonore made no reply to all this, but afterwards, in the solitude of her convent cell, she made this decision: “I will marry Victor Lazun—my debt of gratitude has been paid to my guardians. As a child, my only expense to them was clothing of the poorest quality. My food was not missed in the extravagant household which they kept. To their brother and sister I owe much, and also to Mr. and Mrs. Delombre. They taught me all that I know. Since my arrival in France I have embroidered all madame’s collars, I have done the marketing, overlooked all household affairs, made preserves, done up the muslins, beside mending, sewing, and any little odd job which madame did not like herself.
“This has gone on for two years, and I have done it willingly, but now I am old enough to choose my future course, and shall do so.”
This passage I have copied from a note which she sent to Victor Lazun on her departure for the convent. There, of course, he could not see her, but he well knew that his pretty cousin Victorine La Graviere was at the same convent, and with a little coaxing, he persuaded his aunt to take a note to Victorine, in which he begged his cousin to show Eleonore some kindness for his sake, though without mentioning his name or their relationship.
The acquaintance of the two girls soon ripened into friendship, and it was not long before young Lazun thought his aunt sufficiently interested in Eleonore through his own representations and Victorine’s eulogies, to confide his secret to her care. Yes, dear reader! it was a secret, and you would have laughed to see the dismay on the face of the gentle Countess La Graviere when she learned of his intended marriage.
“But you are not going to marry this poor orphan, are you, Victor? With your rank and favor at court it is quite absurd?”
“I certainly shall, my dear aunt. As to my rank she knows nothing of that, nor my fortune either; so, thank God! she loves me for myself alone.”
“Is this indeed so, Victor?”
“It is all settled. I am my own master, and will marry whom I please. I do wish you would ask her to visit you at your country-seat during the next month. You will be delighted with her. She is the very image of your sister-in-law the Marchioness Eugenie.”