If I had seen Marguerite unhappy, if, in revenging myself upon her, I could have come to her aid, I should perhaps have forgiven her, and certainly I should have never dreamt of doing her an injury. But I found her apparently happy, some one else had restored to her the luxury which I could not give her; her breaking with me seemed to assume a character of the basest self-interest; I was lowered in my own esteem as well as in my love. I resolved that she should pay for what I had suffered.
I could not be indifferent to what she did, consequently what would hurt her the most would be my indifference; it was, therefore, this sentiment which I must affect, not only in her eyes, but in the eyes of others.
I tried to put on a smiling countenance, and I went to call on Prudence. The maid announced me, and I had to wait a few minutes in the drawing-room. At last Mme. Duvernoy appeared and asked me into her boudoir; as I seated myself I heard the drawing-room door open, a light footstep made the floor creak and the front door was closed violently.
"I am disturbing you," I said to Prudence.
"Not in the least. Marguerite was there. When she heard you announced, she made her escape; it was she who has just gone out.""Is she afraid of me now?"
"No. but she is afraid that you would not wish to see her.""But why?" I said, drawing my breath with difficulty, for I was choked with emotion. "The poor girl left me for her carriage, her furniture, and her diamonds; she did quite right, and I don't bear her any grudge. I met her to-day," I continued carelessly.
"Where?" asked Prudence, looking at me and seeming to ask herself if this was the same man whom she had known so madly in love.
"In the Champs-Elysees. She was with another woman, very pretty.
Who is she?"
"What was she like?"
"Blonde, slender, with side curls; blue eyes; very elegant.""Ali! It was Olympe; she is really very pretty.""Whom does she live with?"
"With nobody; with anybody."
"Where does she live?"
"Rue Troncliet, No.--. Do you want to make love to her?""One never knows."
"And Marguerite?"
"I should hardly tell you the truth if I said I think no more about her; but I am one of those with whom everything depends on the way in which one breaks with them. Now Marguerite ended with me so lightly that I realize I was a great fool to have been as much in love with her as I was, for I was really very much in love with that girl."You can imagine the way in which I said that; the sweat broke out on my forehead.
"She was very fond of you, you know, and she still is; the proof is, that after meeting you to-day, she came straight to tell me about it. When she got here she was all of a tremble; I thought she was going to faint.""Well, what did she say?"
"She said, 'He is sure to come here,' and she begged me to ask you to forgive her.""I have forgiven her, you may tell her. She was a good girl; but, after all, like the others, and I ought to have expected what happened. I am even grateful to her, for I see now what would have happened if I had lived with her altogether. It was ridiculous.""She will be very glad to find that you take it so well. It was quite time she left you, my dear fellow. The rascal of an agent to whom she had offered to sell her furniture went around to her creditors to find out how much she owed; they took fright, and in two days she would have been sold up.""And now it is all paid?"
"More or less."
"And who has supplied the money?"
