Here is a letter which I received from the Duchesse de Chaulieu
five days after my arrival in Havre."
He let Modeste read the first lines of the letter we have seen, which
the duchess began by saying that she had seen Mongenod, and now wished
to marry her poet to Modeste; then he tore that passage from the body
of the letter, and placed the fragment in her hand.
"I cannot let you read the rest," he said, putting the paper in his
pocket; "but I confide these few lines to your discretion, so that you
may verify the writing. A young girl who could accuse me of ignoble
sentiments is quite capable of suspecting some collusion, some
trickery. Ah, Modeste," he said, with tears in his voice, "your poet,
the poet of Madame de Chaulieu, has no less poetry in his heart than
in his mind. You are about to see the duchess; suspend your judgment
of me till then."
He left Modeste half bewildered.
"Oh, dear!" she said to herself; "it seems they are all angels--and
not marriageable; the duke is the only one that belongs to humanity."
"Mademoiselle Modeste," said Butscha, appearing with a parcel under
his arm, "this hunt makes me very uneasy.
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