The Count's Millions [92]
de Chalusse kept this fact concealed from you; but he confided his secret to me."
"To you?" interrupted the magistrate, who was unable to restrain himself any longer.
The marquis turned haughtily to this old man dressed in black, and in the dry tone one uses in speaking to an indiscreet inferior, he replied: "To me, yes, monsieur; and he acquainted me not only by word of mouth, but in writing also, with the motives which influenced him, expressing his fixed intention, not only of recognizing Mademoiselle Marguerite as his daughter, but also of adopting her in order to insure her undisputed right to his fortune and his name."
"Ah!" said the magistrate as if suddenly enlightened; "ah! ah!"
But without noticing this exclamation which was, at least, remarkable in tone, M. de Valorsay again turned to Mademoiselle Marguerite, and continued: "Your ignorance on this subject, mademoiselle, convinces me that your servants have not deceived me in telling me that M. de Chalusse was struck down without the slightest warning. But they have told me one thing which I cannot believe. They have told me that the count made no provision for you, that he left no will, and that--excuse a liberty which is prompted only by the most respectful interest--and that, the result of this incomprehensible and culpable neglect is that you are ruined and almost without means. Can this be possible?"
"It is the exact truth, monsieur," replied Mademoiselle Marguerite. "I am reduced to the necessity of working for my daily bread."
She spoke these words with a sort of satisfaction, expecting that the marquis would betray his disappointed covetousness by some significant gesture or exclamation, and she was already prepared to rejoice at his confusion. But her expectations were not realized. Instead of evincing the slightest dismay or even regret, M. de Valorsay drew a long breath, as if a great burden had been lifted from his heart, and his eyes sparkled with apparent delight. "Then I may venture to speak," he exclaimed, with unconcealed satisfaction, "I will speak, rnademoiselle, if you will deign to allow me."
She looked at him with anxious curiosity, wondering what was to come. "Speak, monsieur," she faltered.
"I will obey you, mademoiselle," he said, bowing again. "But first, allow me to tell you how great my hopes have been. M. de Chalusse's death is an irreparable misfortune for me as for yourself. He had allowed me, mademoiselle, to aspire to the honor of becoming a suitor for your hand. If he did not speak to you on the subject, it was only because he wished to leave you absolutely free, and impose upon me the difficult task of winning your consent. But between him and me everything had been arranged in principle, and he was to give a dowry of three millions of francs to Mademoiselle Marguerite de Chalusse, his daughter."
"I am no longer Mademoiselle de Chalusse, Monsieur le Marquis, and I am no longer the possessor of a fortune."
He felt the sharp sting of this retort, for the blood rose to his cheeks, still he did not lose his composure. "If you were still rich, mademoiselle," he replied, in the reproachful tone of an honest man who feels that he is misunderstood, "I should, perhaps, have strength to keep the sentiments with which you have inspired me a secret in my own heart; but--" He rose, and with a gesture which was not devoid of grace, and in a full ringing voice he added: "But you are no longer the possessor of millions; and so I may tell you, Mademoiselle Marguerite, that I love you. Will you be my wife?"
The poor girl was obliged to exercise all her powers of self- control to restrain an exclamation of dismay. It was indeed more than dismay; she was absolutely terrified by the Marquis de Valorsay's unexpected declaration, and she could only falter: "Monsieur! monsieur!"
But with an air of winning frankness he continued: "Need I tell you who I am, mademoiselle? No; that is unnecessary. The fact that my suit was approved of by M. de Chalusse is the best recommendation I can offer you. The pure
"To you?" interrupted the magistrate, who was unable to restrain himself any longer.
The marquis turned haughtily to this old man dressed in black, and in the dry tone one uses in speaking to an indiscreet inferior, he replied: "To me, yes, monsieur; and he acquainted me not only by word of mouth, but in writing also, with the motives which influenced him, expressing his fixed intention, not only of recognizing Mademoiselle Marguerite as his daughter, but also of adopting her in order to insure her undisputed right to his fortune and his name."
"Ah!" said the magistrate as if suddenly enlightened; "ah! ah!"
But without noticing this exclamation which was, at least, remarkable in tone, M. de Valorsay again turned to Mademoiselle Marguerite, and continued: "Your ignorance on this subject, mademoiselle, convinces me that your servants have not deceived me in telling me that M. de Chalusse was struck down without the slightest warning. But they have told me one thing which I cannot believe. They have told me that the count made no provision for you, that he left no will, and that--excuse a liberty which is prompted only by the most respectful interest--and that, the result of this incomprehensible and culpable neglect is that you are ruined and almost without means. Can this be possible?"
"It is the exact truth, monsieur," replied Mademoiselle Marguerite. "I am reduced to the necessity of working for my daily bread."
She spoke these words with a sort of satisfaction, expecting that the marquis would betray his disappointed covetousness by some significant gesture or exclamation, and she was already prepared to rejoice at his confusion. But her expectations were not realized. Instead of evincing the slightest dismay or even regret, M. de Valorsay drew a long breath, as if a great burden had been lifted from his heart, and his eyes sparkled with apparent delight. "Then I may venture to speak," he exclaimed, with unconcealed satisfaction, "I will speak, rnademoiselle, if you will deign to allow me."
She looked at him with anxious curiosity, wondering what was to come. "Speak, monsieur," she faltered.
"I will obey you, mademoiselle," he said, bowing again. "But first, allow me to tell you how great my hopes have been. M. de Chalusse's death is an irreparable misfortune for me as for yourself. He had allowed me, mademoiselle, to aspire to the honor of becoming a suitor for your hand. If he did not speak to you on the subject, it was only because he wished to leave you absolutely free, and impose upon me the difficult task of winning your consent. But between him and me everything had been arranged in principle, and he was to give a dowry of three millions of francs to Mademoiselle Marguerite de Chalusse, his daughter."
"I am no longer Mademoiselle de Chalusse, Monsieur le Marquis, and I am no longer the possessor of a fortune."
He felt the sharp sting of this retort, for the blood rose to his cheeks, still he did not lose his composure. "If you were still rich, mademoiselle," he replied, in the reproachful tone of an honest man who feels that he is misunderstood, "I should, perhaps, have strength to keep the sentiments with which you have inspired me a secret in my own heart; but--" He rose, and with a gesture which was not devoid of grace, and in a full ringing voice he added: "But you are no longer the possessor of millions; and so I may tell you, Mademoiselle Marguerite, that I love you. Will you be my wife?"
The poor girl was obliged to exercise all her powers of self- control to restrain an exclamation of dismay. It was indeed more than dismay; she was absolutely terrified by the Marquis de Valorsay's unexpected declaration, and she could only falter: "Monsieur! monsieur!"
But with an air of winning frankness he continued: "Need I tell you who I am, mademoiselle? No; that is unnecessary. The fact that my suit was approved of by M. de Chalusse is the best recommendation I can offer you. The pure