Ernest was at last able to slip a word into Modeste's ear, and she
rose immediately.
"My dear," said the duchesse, thinking she was going to dress, and
pulling a bell-rope, "they shall show you your apartment."
Ernest accompanied Modeste to the foot of the grand staircase,
presenting the request of the luckless poet, and endeavoring to touch
her feelings by describing Melchior's agony.
"You see, he loves--he is a captive who thought he could break his
chain."
"Love in such a rapid seeker after fortune!" retorted Modeste.
"Mademoiselle, you are at the entrance of life; you do not know its
defiles. The inconsistencies of a man who falls under the dominion of
a woman much older than himself should be forgiven, for he is really
not accountable. Think how many sacrifices Canalis has made to her. He
has sown too much seed of that kind to resign the harvest; the duchess
represents to him ten years of devotion and happiness. You made him
forget all that, and unfortunately, he has more vanity than pride; he
did not reflect on what he was losing until he met Madame Chaulieu
here to-day. If you really understood him, you would help him.
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