ollegian--sufficiently
in love to watch my lady's house at night even when I have no possible
hope of seeing her. I thought myself blase, I boasted of being
invulnerable. Well, one fine morning I woke up with the heart of a youth
of twenty beating in my breast--a heart which trembled at the slightest
glance from the girl I love, and sent purple flushes to my face.
Naturally I tried to reason with myself. I was ashamed of my weakness;
but the more clearly I showed myself my folly, the more obstinate my
heart became. And perhaps my folly is not such a great one after all.
Such perfect beauty united with such modesty, grace, and nobility
of soul, such passion, candor and talent, cannot be met twice in a
lifetime. I intend to leave Paris. We shall first of all go to Italy,
my wife and I. After a while we shall return and install ourselves at
Valorsay, like two turtle-doves. Upon my word, my imagination paints a
charming picture of the calm and happy life we shall lead there! I don't
deserve such good fortune. I must have been born under a lucky star!"

Had he been less engrossed in his narrative, he would have heard the
sound of a stifled oath in the adjoining room; and had he been less
absorbed in the part he was playing, he would have observed a cloud on
his companion's brow. The baron was a keen observer, and he had detected
a false ring in this apparently vehement outburst of passion. "I
understand it now, my dear marquis," said he; "you have met the
descendant of some illustrious but impoverished family."

"You are wrong. My future bride has no other name than her Christian
name of Marguerite."

"It is a regular romance then!"

"You are quite right; it is a romance. Were you acquainted with the
Count de Chalusse, who died a few days ago?"

"No; but I have often heard him spoken of."

"Well, it is his daughter whom I am about to marry--his illegitimate
daughter."

The baron started. "Excuse me," said he; "M. de Chalusse was immensely
rich, and he was a bachelor. How does it happen then that his daughter,
even though she be his illegitimate child, should find herself
penniless?"

"A mere chance--a fatality. M. de Chalusse died very suddenly; he had no
time to make a will or to acknowledge his daughter."

"But why had he not taken some precautions?"

"A formal recognition of his daughter was attended by too many
difficulties, and even dangers. Mademoiselle Marguerite had been
abandoned by her mother when only