"Nor can I, my dear children," said the hunchback; "but, unfortunately, human reason is not infallible, neither does right always make might; besides, even if this should prove to be a suitable marriage for Ernestine, the consent of her guardian is necessary to this marriage, and with ideas like his, it is not at all likely that he will ever consent to such a union. Ernestine would consequently be obliged to wait several years. Nor is this all. M. Olivier will discover sooner or later that his little embroideress is the richest heiress in France, and from what you have said of him, as well as from what Gerald himself has told me of his friend's extreme sensitiveness in money matters, there is good reason to fear that M. Olivier will shrink from the possibility of being accused of mercenary motives in wedding so rich an heiress when he himself is poor; so, in spite of his love and gratitude, he may be capable of sacrificing everything to his scruples."
On hearing these words, which she felt were only too true, mademoiselle shuddered. A pang of real anguish pierced her heart, and she exclaimed, bitterly:
"Ah, my accursed wealth! Shall I never escape the torments it causes me!"
Then, in an entreating voice, and gazing at the hunchback with eyes swimming in tears, she added:
"Ah, M. de Maillefort, you were my mother's devoted friend, you love Herminie devotedly,--save me and save her! Come to our assistance. Be our guardian angel, for I feel that my life will be blighted for ever by the suspicions and the distrust you have awakened in my heart. The only chance of happiness left for me is to marry M. Olivier, and Herminie will die of grief if she does not marry M. de Senneterre, so once more I beseech you, my dear M. Maillefort, to take pity on us."
"Oh, Ernestine," cried the duchess, reproachfully, blushing scarlet in her confusion, "that secret was confided to you alone!"
"Gerald!" exclaimed the marquis, in his turn astounded by this revelation. "Gerald! is it possible that you love Gerald?" he continued, with a searching look at Herminie. "Then it was to this irresistible passion that he alluded when I was praising him yesterday for his generous conduct towards Mlle. de Beaumesnil. He told me, then, that he lived only for a young girl who was worthy of his adoration. Yes, I understand everything now, my poor, dear children, and I tremble for your future."
"Forgive me, oh, forgive me, Herminie," pleaded Ernestine, for her friend's tears were flowing fast. "Do not be angry with me for having betrayed your confidence. But in whom can we have any hope and confidence if not in M. de Maillefort? Who else can guide and comfort and sustain us in these trying hours? Alas! as he himself remarked just now, right does not make might. He admits that, in the trying position in which my accursed wealth places me, I could not have given my affections more wisely, and yet there are great, if not insurmountable, difficulties in the way of my marriage. It is the same with you, Herminie. M. de Maillefort is certainly convinced that there can be no happiness for you and for M. de Senneterre save in your union, which seems even more uncertain than mine."
"Ah, my children, if you knew what kind of a woman the Duchesse de Senneterre is! I told you the other day, Herminie, when you asked me about her. I understand your motive now. But I tell you now, as I told you then, that no woman ever lived who was more absurdly vain of her rank."
"And yet Herminie says she will never marry Gerald unless Madame de Senneterre comes and tells her that she consents to this marriage. This only shows a proper pride in Herminie, though. You think so, too, do you not, M. de Maillefort?"
"She has made that resolve? Ah, what a brave and noble-hearted girl she is!" exclaimed the marquis. "This is still another proof of the laudable pride that makes me love her so much. Most assuredly I approve her decision. I admire it, too, for such a resolve could be born only of a noble soul. I no longer wonder at Gerald's ardent devotion."
"You hear what M. de Maillefort says, Herminie," said Ernestine. "Are you angry with me now for having betrayed your secret?"
"No, Ernestine," replied the duchess, gently. "I blame you only for one thing, and that is for grieving M. de Maillefort by telling him of misfortunes which he cannot remedy."
"But why may he not be able to remedy them?" retorted Ernestine. "You do not know him. You do not know the great influence he exerts in the world,--how much noble-hearted people love and admire him, and how abjectly afraid cowards and evil-doers are of him. And, then, he is so good, so kind to all who are in trouble; he loved my mother so dearly!"
And as M. de Maillefort, overwhelmed with emotion, averted his face to conceal his tears, Mlle. de Beaumesnil continued, in even more beseeching tones:
"Oh, is it not true that you feel all a father's solicitude for us, M.
de Maillefort? Are we not sisters in your eyes, and in the tenderness and attachment we feel for you? Oh, do not, I beseech you, in mercy, do not desert us!"
And Ernestine seized one of the hunchback's hands, while Herminie, involuntarily following her friend's example, possessed herself of the other, saying, in entreating tones:
"Ah, M. de Maillefort, you are our only hope!"
The hunchback was deeply affected. One of these young girls was the child of a woman he had loved devotedly, though secretly, for years.
The other, too, was, perhaps, her child, for very frequently the conviction that Herminie was Madame de Beaumesnil's daughter returned.
But however that might be, M. de Maillefort had received from this dying mother the sacred trust of watching over and protecting Ernestine and Herminie. He had sworn to fulfil this trust, and, unable to make even a pretence of concealing his emotion any longer, he clasped both the young girls passionately to his breast, and, in a voice broken with sobs, exclaimed:
"Yes, yes, my poor, dear children. I will do all the most loving of fathers could do for you!"
It is impossible to describe the touching scene and the eloquent silence that followed, which Ernestine, now radiant with hope, was the first to break, by exclaiming:
"Herminie, we are saved! You will marry M. Gerald, and I, M. Olivier!"
CHAPTER XX.
AN ALLIANCE OFFENSIVE AND DEFENSIVE.
On hearing Ernestine's joyful exclamation, M. de Maillefort shook his head, and said, with a faint smile:
"One moment, young ladies, don't go and indulge in all sorts of wild hopes that will worry me almost as much as your despair. Let us look at the situation calmly and sensibly. All this excitement is not going to help matters; on the contrary, it unnerves one. One weeps and laments, or exults, as the case may be, and that is all it amounts to."
"But, M. de Maillefort, these are tears of happiness," replied Ernestine, wiping her eyes. "I have no reason to regret them."
"No, but they should not be indulged in again. They impair one's vision, and it is necessary to see our situation clearly, very clearly."
"M. de Maillefort is right," said Herminie. "Let us be calm and sensible."
"Yes, yes, we will!" cried Ernestine. "Sit down here between us, M. de Maillefort, and let us talk the matter over calmly and sensibly, as you say."
"Very well," replied the hunchback, seating himself on the sofa between the two girls, and taking a hand of each in his. "Which one of you shall we consider first?"
"Herminie," replied Ernestine, promptly.
"So be it," responded the marquis. "Very well, Herminie and Gerald love each other devotedly, and are worthy of each other, that is understood; but, with a pride that I both admire and approve,--because there is no possibility of either love or happiness without dignity,--Herminie will not consent to marry Gerald unless the Duchesse de Senneterre calls on her and gives her consent to this marriage. The question is, therefore, to devise a means of compelling this haughtiest of duchesses to make these overtures."
"But nothing is impossible to you, M. de Maillefort," said Ernestine, navely.
"Just hear this wheedler with her 'Nothing is impossible to you, M. de Maillefort,'" said the marquis, smiling. Then he added with a sigh: "Ah, my dear child, if you knew what hard things vanity and selfishness are to fight! And those two words describe Madame de Senneterre exactly. But though I am not the great necromancer you say, I shall have to devise some way of taming this two-headed monster, I suppose."
"Ah, if you can ever accomplish that feat, monsieur," said Herminie, "my whole life--"
"I count upon that, my child. Yes, I hope and trust that you will love me during your whole life, even if I should fail in what I am about to undertake, for in that case I believe I should be quite as unhappy as you are, and stand in almost equal need of consolation. Now it is your turn, my dear Ernestine!"
"It seems to me that my prospects are even gloomier than Herminie's,"
said Mlle. de Beaumesnil, sadly.
"I don't know about that, but I must warn you, my poor child, that I can do nothing for you until after I have satisfied myself beyond a doubt of M. Olivier Raymond's worth."
"Why, doesn't what you already know satisfy you, M. de Maillefort?"
"It is perfectly satisfactory so far as his life as a soldier is concerned, but as a man can be a very brave officer and a very bad husband, I shall make some further inquiries concerning him."
"But M. de Senneterre speaks very highly of M. Olivier, you say."
"Yes, my dear child, but a man may be an admirable friend and an excellent comrade, and yet make his wife very unhappy."
"How suspicious you are! You forget that M. Olivier thinks me a poor girl--and that--"
"That his gratitude, generosity, and love impelled him to offer you a more brilliant future than one in your supposed position had a right to expect, perhaps. It was a very generous and noble impulse, I admit, and a little while ago I was so touched by it that I allowed myself to become almost as enthusiastic as you and Herminie."