the last few days; namely, to quietly reconquer Modeste, and throw over
the duchess, La Briere, and the duke. A graduate of diplomacy could
hardly remain stuck in the position in which he found himself. On the
other hand La Briere had come to the resolution of bidding Modeste an
eternal farewell. Each suitor was therefore on the watch to slip in a
last word, like the defendant's counsel to the court before judgment is
pronounced; for all felt that the three weeks' struggle was approaching
its conclusion. After dinner on the evening before the start was to be
made, the colonel had taken his daughter by the arm and made her feel
the necessity of deciding.
"Our position with the d'Herouville family will be quite intolerable at
Rosembray," he said to her. "Do you mean to be a duchess?"
"No, father," she answered.
"Then do you love Canalis?"
"No, papa, a thousand times no!" she exclaimed with the impatience of a
child.
The colonel looked at her with a sort of joy.
"Ah, I have not influenced you," cried the true father, "and I will
now confess that I chose my son-in-law in Paris when, having made him
believe that I had but little fortune, he grasped my hand and told me I
took a weight from his mind--"
"Who is it you mean?" asked Modeste, coloring.
"_The man of fixed principles and sound moralities_," said her father,
slyly, repeating the words which had dissolved poor Modeste's dream on
the day after his return.
"I was not even thinking of him, papa. Please leave me at liberty to
refuse the duke myself; I understand him, and I know how to soothe him."
"Then your choice is not made?"
"Not yet; there is another syllable or two in the charade of my destiny
still to be guessed; but after I have had a glimpse of court life at
Rosembray I will tell you my secret."
"Ah! Monsieur de La Briere," cried the colonel, as the young man
approached them along the garden path in which they were walking, "I
hope you are going to this hunt?"
"No, colonel," answered Ernest. "I have come to take leave of you and of
mademoiselle; I return to Paris--"
"You have no curiosity," said Modeste, interrupting, and looking at him.
"A wish--that I cannot expect--would suffice to keep me," he replied.
"If that is all, you must stay to please me; I wish it," said the
colonel, going forward to meet Canalis, and leaving his daughter and La
Briere together for a moment.
"Mademoiselle," said the young man, raising his eyes
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