THE FATHER AND THE FIANCÉE.
Philippe hastened to the boudoir, where his sister awaited him. She ran
to embrace him with a joyous air.
“What is it, Andrée?” cried he.
“Something which makes me happy. Oh! very happy, brother.”
“And you come back to announce it to me.”
“I come back for ever,” said Andrée.
“Speak low, sister; there is, or is going to be, some one in the next
room who might hear you.”
“Who?”
“Listen.”
“M. le Comte de Charny,” announced the servant.
“He! oh, I know well what he comes for.”
“You know!”
“Yes, and soon I shall be summoned to hear what he has to say.”
“Do you speak seriously, my dear Andrée?”
“Listen, Philippe. The queen has brought me suddenly back, and I must
go and change my dress for one fit for a fiancée.” And saying this,
with a kiss to Philippe, she ran off.
Philippe remained alone. He could hear what passed in the adjoining
room. M. de Taverney entered, and saluted the count with a recherché
though stiff politeness.
“I come, monsieur,” said Charny, “to make a request, and beg you to
excuse my not having brought my uncle with me, which I know would have
been more proper.”
“A request?”
“I have the honor,” continued Charny, in a voice full of emotion, “to
ask the hand of Mademoiselle Andrée, your daughter.”
The baron opened his eyes in astonishment—“My daughter?”
“Yes, M. le Baron, if Mademoiselle de Taverney feels no repugnance.”
“Oh,” thought the old man, “Philippe’s favor is already so well-known,
that one of his rivals wishes to marry his sister.” Then aloud, he
said, “This request is such an honor to us, M. le Comte, that I accede
with much pleasure; and as I should wish you to carry away a perfectly
favorable answer, I will send for my daughter.”
“Monsieur,” interrupted the count, rather coldly, “the queen has been
good enough to consult Mademoiselle de Taverney already, and her reply
was favorable.”
“Ah!” said the baron, more and more astonished, “it is the queen
then——”
“Yes, monsieur, who took the trouble to go to St. Denis.”
“Then, sir, it only remains to acquaint you with my daughter’s fortune.
She is not rich, and before concluding——”
“It is needless, M. le Baron; I am rich enough for both.”
At this moment the door opened, and Philippe entered, pale and wild
looking.
“Sir,” said he, “my father was right to wish to discuss these things
with you. While he goes up-stairs to bring the papers I have something
to say to you.”
When they were left alone, “M. de Charny,” said he, “how dare you come
here to ask for the hand of my sister?” Charny colored. “Is it,”
continued Philippe, “in order to hide better your amours with another
woman whom you love, and who loves you? Is it, that by becoming the
husband of a woman who is always near your mistress, you will have more
facilities for seeing her?”
“Sir, you pass all bounds.”
“It is, perhaps; and this is what I believe, that were I your
brother-in-law, you think my tongue would be tied about what I know of
your past amours.”
“What you know?”
“Yes,” cried Philippe, “the huntsman’s house hired by you, your
mysterious promenades in the park at night, and the tender parting at
the little gate.”
“Monsieur, in heaven’s name——”
“Oh, sir, I was concealed behind the baths of Apollo when you came out,
arm in arm with the queen.”
Charny was completely overwhelmed for a time; then, after a few
moments, he said, “Well, sir, even after all this, I reiterate my
demand for the hand of your sister. I am not the base calculator you
suppose me; but the queen must be saved.”
“The queen is not lost, because I saw her on your arm, raising to
heaven her eyes full of happiness; because I know that she loves you.
That is no reason why my sister should be sacrificed, M. de Charny.”
“Monsieur,” replied Charny, “this morning the king surprised me at her
feet——”
“Mon Dieu!”
“And she, pressed by his jealous questions, replied that I was kneeling
to ask the hand of your sister. Therefore if I do not marry her, the
queen is lost. Do you now understand?”
A cry from the boudoir now interrupted them, followed by another from
the ante-chamber. Charny ran to the boudoir; he saw there Andrée,
dressed in white like a bride: she had heard all, and had fainted.
Philippe ran to where the other cry came from; it was his father, whose
hopes this revelation of the queen’s love for Charny had just
destroyed; struck by apoplexy, he had given his last sigh. Philippe,
who understood it, looked at the corpse for a few minutes in silence,
and then returned to the drawing-room, and there saw Charny watching
the senseless form of his sister. He then said, “My father has just
expired, sir; I am now the head of the family; if my sister survive, I
will give her to you in marriage.”
Charny regarded the corpse of the baron with horror, and the form of
Andrée with despair. Philippe uttered a groan of agony, then continued,
“M. de Charny, I make this engagement in the name of my sister, now
lying senseless before us; she will give her happiness to the queen,
and I, perhaps, some day shall be happy enough to give my life for her.
Adieu, M. de Charny——” and taking his sister in his arms, he carried
her into the next room.