cried Ernestine, thoughtlessly, remembering only her conversation with the young duke the evening before. "He loves you as you deserve to be loved, I know it."
"You know it, Ernestine? How do you know it?"
"I mean that--that I am sure of it, Herminie," replied Ernestine, much embarrassed. "All you have told me about him convinces me that you could not have placed your affections more wisely. The obstacles to your union are great, I admit, but by no means insurmountable."
"But they are, Ernestine. I have never told you before, but my own sense of dignity will not permit me to marry M. de Senneterre, unless his mother comes here and tells me that she consents to my marriage with her son. Without that, nothing could induce me to enter this aristocratic family."
"Oh, Herminie, how much I admire your pride!" exclaimed Ernestine. "And what does M. de Senneterre say?"
"When M. Olivier told him my resolution, far from appearing either surprised or shocked, Gerald replied: 'What Herminie asks is only just.
Her dignity, as well as mine, requires it. Despair is cowardly and foolish. It is for me to find the means of compelling my mother to acknowledge the worth of the woman to whom I shall be proud to give my name.' Noble and touching words, were they not, Ernestine?"
"You are right, Herminie."
"My mother loves me devotedly,' added M. de Senneterre, 'and nothing is impossible to an ardent lover. I shall find a way to convince my mother of the wisdom of my choice, and to induce her to make the advances Herminie has a right to expect. How I shall do it, I cannot say, but I shall do it, for Herminie's happiness and mine are at stake.'
"And does not this courageous resolve inspire you with some hope?" asked Ernestine.
The duchess shook her head sadly as she replied:
"Gerald is sincere in his determination, but he deceives himself. All I have heard of his mother convinces me that this haughty woman will never--"
"Never! why do you say never?" cried Ernestine, interrupting her friend.
"Ah, Herminie, you have no idea how much the love of a man like M. de Senneterre can accomplish. His mother is a very proud woman, you say; so much the better. She would show herself pitiless to any cowardly humility, while your eminently proper pride will be sure to impress her, as she, too, is proud; so she will at least be obliged to esteem and respect you. That will be one great advantage gained; her love for her son will do the rest, for you do not know how she idolises him. She loves him so devotedly, in fact, that she has so far forgotten herself as to mix herself up in a shameful conspiracy in order to secure him an immense fortune by an act unworthy of him. Why, then, is her maternal love likely to fail when a worthy, commendable act on her part is alone needed to assure her son's happiness? Believe me, Herminie, no one ever need despair when there is a mother's heart to appeal to."
"Really, Ernestine, you amaze me. You speak of M. de Senneterre and his family as if you knew them."
"Well, I may as well admit, my dear Herminie," said Mlle. de Beaumesnil, unable to resist her desire to allay her friend's fears and to encourage her to hope, "that, knowing how unhappy you were, I managed to make some inquiries about the Senneterre family through my relative."
"But how?"
"She knows one of Mlle. de Beaumesnil's servants."
"Your relative does?"
"Yes, and she discovered in this way that Madame de Senneterre has been mixed up in an unfortunate scheme to bring about a marriage between her son and Mlle. de Beaumesnil, that rich heiress."
"Gerald was to marry Mlle. de Beaumesnil?" exclaimed Herminie.
"Yes, but he nobly refused. Her immense fortune has no attraction for him, because he loves you,--loves you devotedly, Herminie."
"Is this true?" exclaimed the duchess, delightedly. "Are you sure of what you say, Ernestine?"
"Perfectly sure."
"It is not so much that this disinterestedness on Gerald's part astonishes me," said Herminie, "as that--"
"That you are proud of this new proof of his love. Am I not right?"
"Yes, yes," exclaimed the duchess, her hopes reviving in spite of herself. "But once more, I can not help asking if you are perfectly sure of what you say? My poor child, you are so anxious to see me happy that I am afraid you have lent too ready an ear to these reports, for servants' gossip, you know, is proverbially unreliable. Do you know whether Gerald has ever met Mlle. de Beaumesnil?"
"Once or twice, I think my relative told me. But why do you ask that question, Herminie?"
"Because it seems to me that I shall feel very uncomfortable to-morrow, knowing that there has been some talk of a marriage between Gerald and Mlle. de Beaumesnil."
"Why, what is to happen to-morrow, Herminie?"
"I am to give Mlle. de Beaumesnil her first music lesson."
"To-morrow?" exclaimed Ernestine, without concealing her surprise.
"Read this letter, my dear," replied the duchess. "It is from that gentleman, the hunchback, you remember, that you once met here."
"M. de Maillefort probably had his reasons for not warning me of his intentions," Ernestine said to herself, as she perused the missive. "I am glad that he is hastening the denouement, however, for my powers of dissimulation are nearly exhausted. What a relief it will be to confess all!"
As she returned the letter, Ernestine asked:
"What difference does it make to you, Herminie, if there has been some talk of a marriage between M. de Senneterre and Mlle. de Beaumesnil?"
"I do not know, but I somehow feel that it places me in a false, almost painful position towards that young lady, and if I had not promised M.
de Maillefort--"
"What would you do?"
"I would abandon this visit, which now causes me a sort of vague uneasiness."
"But you have promised, Herminie, and you can not break your word.
Besides, is not Mlle. de Beaumesnil the child of the lady whom you loved so much, and who so often talked to you about her dear daughter? Think of it, Herminie; would it not be wrong to give up going to see her? Do you not at least owe that to her mother's memory?"
"You are right, Ernestine. I shall have to go, and yet--"
"Who knows, Herminie, but your acquaintance with this young girl will prove of benefit to both of you. I scarcely know why, but I prophesy good from this visit, and I certainly prove my disinterestedness by doing so, for devoted friendship is naturally jealous. But it is growing late, my friend, and I must go. I will write to you to-morrow."
The duchess sat silent and evidently absorbed in thought for a moment.
"Ah, Ernestine," she exclaimed at last, "I can not tell you all the strange thoughts that are passing through my mind. Gerald's noble disinterestedness, my approaching interview with Mlle. de Beaumesnil, your disclosures in relation to the character of Madame de Senneterre, who, being proud herself, can, perhaps, better understand the demands of my pride,--all this agitates me deeply. Nevertheless, though I was so full of despair a few minutes ago, I now hope, in spite of myself, and thanks to you, my dear friend, my heart is much less heavy than when you came."
Consideration for M. de Maillefort's plans alone prevented Ernestine from putting an end to her friend's anxiety and increasing her hope by giving her further proofs of Gerald's love as well as of his nobility of character, but remembering that all this mystery would soon be cleared up, she carried her secret away with her when she parted from Herminie.
The following afternoon, according to promise, M. de Maillefort called for the duchess, and the two immediately started for Mlle. de Beaumesnil's residence.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A QUESTION OF IDENTITY.