There is nothing more poetic than a
living elegy, animated by a pair of eyes, walking about, and sighing
without rhymes.
The Duc d'Herouville arrived at last to arrange for Modeste's
departure; after crossing the Seine she was to be conveyed in the
duke's caleche, accompanied by the Demoiselles d'Herouville. The duke
was charmingly courteous, he begged Canalis and La Briere to be of the
party, assuring them, as he did the colonel, that he had taken
particular care that hunters should be provided for them. The colonel
invited the three lovers to breakfast on the morning of the start.
Canalis then began to put into execution a plan that he had been
maturing in his own mind for the last few days; namely, to quietly
reconquer Modeste, and throw over the duchess, La Briere, and the
duke. A graduate of diplomacy could hardly remain stuck in the
position in which he found himself. On the other hand La Briere had
come to the resolution of bidding Modeste an eternal farewell. Each
suitor was therefore on the watch to slip in a last word, like the
defendant's counsel to the court before judgment is pronounced; for
all felt that the three weeks' struggle was approaching its
conclusion.
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