out of gratitude for the service
he knew I had rendered Edmee, and partly from family pride; but he
had not expected that I should prove so stubborn on the question
of education. I cannot tell you the irritation I felt at this word
"condition"; especially as I thought I detected in it signs of some plan
that Edmee had formed to free herself from her promise to me.

"Uncle," I answered, after listening to all his magnificent offers in
absolute silence, "I thank you for all you wish to do for me; but it is
not right that I should avail myself of your kindness. I have no need of
a fortune. A man like myself wants nothing but a little bread, a gun, a
hound, and the first inn he comes to on the edge of the wood. Since you
are good enough to act as my guardian pay me the income on my eighth of
the fief and do not ask me to learn that Latin bosh. A man of birth is
sufficiently well educated when he knows how to bring down a snipe and
sign his name. I have no desire to be seigneur of Roche-Mauprat; it is
enough to have been a slave there. You are most kind, and on my honour I
love you; but I have very little love for conditions. I have never done
anything from interested motives. I would rather remain an ignoramus
than develop a pretty wit for another's dole. Moreover, I could never
consent to make such a hole in my cousin's fortune; though I know
perfectly well that she would willingly sacrifice a part of her dowry to
obtain release from . . ."

Edmee, who until now had remained very pale and apparently heedless of
my words, all at once cast a lightning glance at me and said with an air
of unconcern:

"To obtain a release from what, may I ask, Bernard?"

I saw that, in spite of this show of courage, she was very much
perturbed; for she broke her fan while shutting it. I answered her
with a look in which the artless malice of the rustic must have been
apparent:

"To obtain release, cousin, from a certain promise you made me at
Roche-Mauprat."

She grew paler than ever, and on her face I could see an expression of
terror, but ill-disguised by a smile of contempt.

"What was the promise you made him, Edmee?" asked the chevalier, turning
towards her ingenuously.

At the same time the abbe pressed my arm furtively, and I understood
that my cousin's confessor was in possession of the secret.

I shrugged my shoulders; their fears did me an injustice, though they
roused my pity.

"She promised me," I replied, with a smil