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"Ah, you have been tattling, Mlle. Herminie," said Olivier, gaily.

"At all events, I was entirely disinterested," she retorted; "for when I told Ernestine all the good I knew of you, M. Olivier, I was far from suspecting that you would corroborate my statements so soon."

"And I must tell M. Olivier, with that frankness on which he sets such store, that he misjudges me very much if he thinks I am pining for the luxury he promises me," said Ernestine, smiling.

"And I," said Olivier, "shall reply with equal frankness that I am terribly selfish, and that, in hoping to be able to surround Mlle.

Ernestine with luxury, I am thinking only of the pleasure it will give me."

"And I, who am Reason personified," said Herminie, with a melancholy smile, "I shall tell Mlle. Ernestine and M. Olivier that they are two foolish children to indulge in these golden visions. The present should content them."

"Yes, I admit it is wrong," responded Olivier, gaily. "Just see where ambition leads one! I am dreaming of becoming a colonel, instead of saying to myself that my worthy uncle and myself--thanks to my pay as a second lieutenant--have never been so rich before. Think of it, nearly six thousand francs a year--for us two. What happiness to be able to say, 'For us three, Mlle. Ernestine!'"

"Six thousand francs a year? Why, that is an enormous amount," exclaimed the richest heiress in France. "How can any one spend all that money?"

"Poor child!" Olivier said to himself, exulting in his new-found prosperity, "I thought as much. She has been so poor up to this time, that it seems an immense fortune to her."

But he said aloud:

"We shall manage to spend our three thousand francs, all the same, I expect, Mlle. Ernestine. In the first place, I shall always insist upon your being nicely dressed, in simple but elegant toilets. Our rank requires it, you know, mademoiselle. An officer's wife--why, the army regulations require her to be well dressed, you understand."

"If the dignity of your rank is at stake, why, I submit, of course,"

replied Mlle. de Beaumesnil, laughing, "but only on condition that your dear uncle shall have a pretty garden, as he is so fond of flowers."

"That is understood, Mlle. Ernestine. We can easily find a snug little apartment with a garden in a quiet part of the town, for as I shall belong to the garrison we can not live in the Batignolles any longer.

But--great Heavens--"

"What is the matter, M. Olivier?"

"Are you a Bonapartist, Mlle. Ernestine?" inquired the young officer, with comical seriousness.

"Why certainly, M. Olivier. I admire the emperor very much. But why do you ask that question?"

"Then we are lost, mademoiselle, for my poor uncle shelters beneath his roof the most implacable enemy of the great Napoleon that ever lived."

"Indeed!"

"You will shudder to hear her frightful stories of his atrocities; but seriously, Mlle. Ernestine, I shall be obliged to ask your indulgence, and your affection as well, for a very worthy woman, my uncle's housekeeper, who during the ten years she has been in his employ has never allowed a day to pass without lavishing every attention upon him, and without quarrelling with him in the most outrageous manner on the subject of the Corsican ogre."

"Very well, M. Olivier, I will disclose my admiration for the great emperor only to your dear uncle, and play the hypocrite before this worthy woman. Oh, you shall see; I am very politic, and she will love me in spite of my Bonapartism."

Madame Moufflon, the concierge, having rapped at the door, interrupted the conversation by handing a letter to Herminie, who, recognising the handwriting as that of M. de Maillefort, told the portress to ask the messenger to wait, as there might be an answer required.

So Olivier, fearing that a longer stay would be indiscreet, and being also in a hurry to find Commander Bernard, and report the success of his wooing, said to Mlle. de Beaumesnil:

"I came here in a very anxious frame of mind, Mlle. Ernestine. Thanks to you, I am going away the happiest and most contented of men. I need not tell you how impatiently I shall await your decision in regard to your relative. If you think it advisable for my uncle to approach her on the subject, please let me know as soon as possible."

"I will do so at our next interview, which had better take place here, M. Olivier."

"May I not be permitted to bring my uncle?" asked Olivier. "There is so much that he wishes to say to you. He will be so anxious to see you, too, that it would hardly be fair to deny him the favour, for there is nothing he wouldn't be capable of doing in order to reach you, and tell you of his joy and gratitude."

"Herminie and I will not force your dear uncle to any extreme measures, for I, myself, am very impatient to see him again, so _a bientot_, M.

Olivier."

"_A bientot_, mademoiselle."

And Olivier departed, leaving the two girls alone together.

Herminie then opened M. de Maillefort's letter. It read as follows:

"It is still to-morrow, Saturday, my dear child, that I shall call to take you to Mlle. de Beaumesnil, only, if agreeable to you, I will come at three in the afternoon, instead of at noon as we agreed.

"A cousin-germain of mine, the Prince Duc de Haut-Martel, the head of our house, has just died in Hungary.

"I received this news through the Austrian ambassador, upon whom I must call early to-morrow morning for some necessary formalities, which, to my great regret, will prevent me from fulfilling my engagement with you as early as I promised.

"I shall see you, then, to-morrow, my dear child,

"Affectionately,

"MAILLEFORT."

"Ernestine, you will excuse me to write a few words in answer to this letter, will you not?" asked Herminie, seating herself at the table.

So, while the duchess was writing to M. de Maillefort, Mlle. de Beaumesnil reflected with growing satisfaction upon the engagement she had just contracted with Olivier.

The duchess wrote M. de Maillefort that she would expect him at three the following afternoon, then rang for Madame Moufflon, and asked her to deliver the note to the messenger.

When the portress had left the room, Herminie returned to Mlle. de Beaumesnil, and, kissing her affectionately, asked:

"You are very happy, are you not, Ernestine?"

"Yes, very happy, Herminie," replied Mlle. de Beaumesnil, "and it was here in your home that this happiness came to me, my dear friend. How generous M. Olivier is! How much he must esteem and love me for him to desire to marry me, when his position is so superior to mine! That, in itself, is enough to make me adore him, and to make me place implicit faith in his promises. With what a feeling of security I can now face the future, however trying may be the circumstances in which I find myself to-day!"

"Yes, Ernestine, you are indeed certain of happiness. Your life cannot fail to be pleasant and fortunate. To love and to be loved worthily is, indeed, a fate to be envied."

And as the contrast between her own future and that of her friend struck her, the poor duchess could not help bursting into tears.

"It is, indeed, true that happiness is always selfish!" cried Ernestine.

"Oh, Herminie, forgive me, forgive me! How much you must have suffered!

Every word of our conversation with M. Olivier must have pierced your soul! You heard us talk of our mutual love, of our hope of a blissful future, and all the while you felt that you, perhaps, would have to renounce all such joys. Ah, our thoughtlessness must have pained you deeply, my dear Herminie."

"No, no, Ernestine," said the poor duchess, drying her eyes, "on the contrary, your happiness has been a great consolation to me. Has it not enabled me to forget my own grief and despair all the morning?"

"Despair? But why do you say that? M. de Senneterre is worthy of you,"

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