esteem and friendship of the father, greatly assisted by the careless
inattention of that servant of science who took no thought for the
marriage of his daughter, and not suspecting that Marguerite could
prefer another,--Pierquin unguardedly enabled her to form a judgment
on a suit in which there was no passion except that of self-interest,
always odious to a young soul, and which he was not clever enough to
conceal. It was he who on this occasion was naively above-board, it was
she who dissimulated,--simply because he thought he was dealing with a
defenceless girl, and wholly misconceived the privileges of weakness.
"My dear cousin," he said to Marguerite, with whom he was walking about
the paths of the little garden, "you know my heart, you understand how
truly I desire to respect the painful feelings which absorb you at this
moment. I have too sensitive a nature for a lawyer; I live by my heart
only, I am forced to spend my time on the interests of others when I
would fain let myself enjoy the sweet emotions which make life happy. I
suffer deeply in being obliged to talk to you of subjects so discordant
with your state of mind, but it is necessary. I have thought much
about you during the last few days. It is evident that through a fatal
delusion the fortune of your brothers and sister and your own are in
jeopardy. Do you wish to save your family from complete ruin?"
"What must I do?" she asked, half-frightened by his words.
"Marry," answered Pierquin.
"I shall not marry," she said.
"Yes, you will marry," replied the notary, "when you have soberly
thought over the critical position in which you are placed."
"How can my marriage save--"
"Ah! I knew you would consider it, my dear cousin," he exclaimed,
interrupting her. "Marriage will emancipate you."
"Why should I be emancipated?" asked Marguerite.
"Because marriage will put you at once into possession of your property,
my dear little cousin," said the lawyer in a tone of triumph. "If you
marry you take your share of your mother's property. To give it to you,
the whole property must be liquidated; to do that, it becomes necessary
to sell the forest of Waignies. That done, the proceeds will be
capitalized, and your father, as guardian, will be compelled to invest
the fortune of his children in such a way that Chemistry can't get hold
of it."
"And if I do not marry, what will happen?" she asked.
"Well," said the notary, "your father will manage yo
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