“It is not too late for us to remember it, I hope?” said Edgar, imperceptibly emphasizing the us, and throwing a persuasive deference into his tone that subdued Hélène.
“It is strange that you should care; but, since it is so, let us be cousins!” And she held out her hand to him.
Six weeks after this promenade in the Jardin Musard there was a diner de contrat at Madame de Galliac’s. The fiancé wore the full-dress uniform of a chasseur d’Afrique. His bronzed features attested long residence under Algerian skies, and the stars and medals on his breast bore witness that his days had not been wasted there in idle dalliance.
The plot against Monsieur de Chassedot’s liberty had collapsed, to the inexpressible vexation of his mother, who, together with the family lawyer and Madame de Galliac, had arranged all the essentials for his marriage with Henriette’s four millions; but, strange as it may seem, the consent of the young people themselves, when demanded as a final condition, was actually found wanting. It had come to the young lady’s ear that Monsieur de Chassedot was no party to the business, and that, if he let himself be persuaded into marrying her, it would be quite against his will. Mademoiselle de Galliac there and then declared that she would be forced upon no man, were he Roi de France et de Navarre. And so this most eligible union, for want of a bride and a bridegroom, fell through.
Madame de Beaucœur then called to mind a nephew of her husband’s who was serving in Africa. He was two millions short of the requisite figure, but he had ‘de grandes espérances’ and was moreover willing to be married, having positively written to his family stating this fact, and requesting them to look out for a wife for him. Photographs were exchanged, character and principles inquired into, and vouched for satisfactorily—Henriette made this a sine quâ non—and within one month from the day that his aunt opened negotiations with Madame de Galliac, Alexandre de Beaucœur arrived in Paris the affianced husband of Henriette de Galliac. They were presented to each other at a morning reception, and met next day at the diner de contrat. He took her in to dinner, Madame de Galliac whispering to him with an arch smile, as Henriette accepted his arm, “Now pay your addresses!”
The position was an embarrassing one. Monsieur de Beaucœur wished to avail himself of the opportunity to win his bride’s affections, but he was ill at ease, and, the more he strove to find something agreeable to say, the less he succeeded. When dessert was served, however, he took courage, and, bending over Henriette’s wineglass, he murmured timidly in a low tone:
“Mademoiselle, what color will you have your carriage?”
“Blue, monsieur,” the young lady replied in the same low tone.
He bowed, and they relapsed into silence.
This was all that passed between them till they swore before God and man to love each other until death did part them.