life. The future of a child who has done nothing against you, and who
has the right of looking forward to a happy future, is in your hands.
Have you the right, have you the strength, to shatter it? In the name of
your love and of your repentance, Marguerite, grant me the happiness of
my child."

I wept silently, my friend, at all these reflections which I had so
often made, and which, in the mouth of your father, took a yet more
serious reality. I said to myself all that your father dared not say to
me, though it had come to his lips twenty times: that I was, after all,
only a kept woman, and that whatever excuse I gave for our liaison, it
would always look like calculation on my part; that my past life left
me no right to dream of such a future, and that I was accepting
responsibilities for which my habits and reputation were far from giving
any guarantee. In short, I loved you, Armand.

The paternal way in which M. Duval had spoken to me; the pure memories
that he awakened in me; the respect of this old man, which I would gain;
yours, which I was sure of gaining later on: all that called up in my
heart thoughts which raised me in my own eyes with a sort of holy pride,
unknown till then. When I thought that one day this old man, who was now
imploring me for the future of his son, would bid his daughter mingle my
name with her prayers, as the name of a mysterious friend, I seemed to
become transformed, and I felt a pride in myself.

The exaltation of the moment perhaps exaggerated the truth of these
impressions, but that was what I felt, friend, and these new feelings
silenced the memory of the happy days I had spent with you.

"Tell me, sir," I said to your father, wiping away my tears, "do you
believe that I love your son?"

"Yes," said M. Duval.

"With a disinterested love?"

"Yes.

"Do you believe that I had made this love the hope, the dream, the
forgiveness--of my life?"

"Implicitly."

"Well, sir, embrace me once, as you would embrace your daughter, and I
swear to you that that kiss, the only chaste kiss I have ever had, will
make me strong against my love, and that within a week your son will be
once more at your side, perhaps unhappy for a time, but cured forever."

"You are a noble child," replied your father, kissing me on the
forehead, "and you are making an attempt for which God will reward you;
but I greatly fear that you will have no influence upon my son."

"Oh, be at rest, sir; he will ha