It would be very effective on the stage," remarked the Duc de
Grandlieu, "but it all amounts to nothing when your jointure and
position and independence is concerned. You are not grateful, my dear
niece. You will not find many families where the relatives have courage
enough to teach the wisdom gained by experience, and to make rash young
heads listen to reason. Renounce your salvation in two minutes, if it
pleases you to damn yourself; well and good; but reflect well beforehand
when it comes to renouncing your income. I know of no confessor who
remits the pains of poverty. I have a right, I think, to speak in this
way to you; for if you are ruined, I am the one person who can offer you
a refuge. I am almost an uncle to Langeais, and I alone have a right to
put him in the wrong."

The Duc de Navarreins roused himself from painful reflections.

"Since you speak of feeling, my child," he said, "let me remind you that
a woman who bears your name ought to be moved by sentiments which do
not touch ordinary people. Can you wish to give an advantage to the
Liberals, to those Jesuits of Robespierre's that are doing all they
can to vilify the noblesse? Some things a Navarreins cannot do
without failing in duty to his house. You would not be alone in your
dishonor----"

"Come, come!" said the Princess. "Dishonor? Do not make such a fuss
about the journey of an empty carriage, children, and leave me alone
with Antoinette. All three of you come and dine with me. I will
undertake to arrange matters suitably. You men understand nothing;
you are beginning to talk sourly already, and I have no wish to see a
quarrel between you and my dear child. Do me the pleasure to go."

The three gentlemen probably guessed the Princess's intentions; they
took their leave. M. de Navarreins kissed his daughter on the forehead
with, "Come, be good, dear child. It is not too late yet if you choose."

"Couldn't we find some good fellow in the family to pick a quarrel with
this Montriveau?" said the Vidame, as they went downstairs.

When the two women were alone, the Princess beckoned her niece to a
little low chair by her side.

"My pearl," said she, "in this world below, I know nothing worse
calumniated than God and the eighteenth century; for as I look back over
my own young days, I do not recollect that a single duchess trampled the
proprieties underfoot as you have just done. Novelists and scribblers
brought the reign of Louis XV into disreput