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It was clear, I thought, that neither she nor Lady Henry wished to be questioned. But, do you, for instance I have no doubt Lady Henry tells you more than she tells me do you know anything of Mademoiselle Julie's antecedents?" Sir Wilfrid started. Through his mind ran the same reflection as that to which the Duke had given expression in the morning "she ought to reveal herself!"
On her part, Isaura was moved not only by the beauty of Julie's countenance, but still more by the childlike ingenuousness of its expression. So, for the first time in their lives, met the child and the stepchild of Louise Duval. Each so deserted, each so left alone and inexperienced amid the perils of the world, with fates so different, typifying orders of womanhood so opposed.
In 1817, however, an event took place which did much to alleviate Julie's hitherto deplorable existence. A daughter was born to her, and she determined to nurse her child herself. For two years motherhood, its all-absorbing multiplicity of cares and anxious joys, made life less hard for her. She and her husband lived necessarily apart.
"But you mean to be with Julie's money?" "Oh ah yes; and you ought to know, Madam Gordeloup, that I am now the heir to the family estate and title." "Yes; the poor little baby is dead, in spite of the pills and the powders, the daisies and the buttercups! Poor little baby! I had a baby of my own once, and that died also."
"Never see you again?" exclaimed Emmanuel, while two large tears rolled down Julie's cheeks, "never behold you again? It is not a man, then, but some angel that leaves us, and this angel is on the point of returning to heaven after having appeared on earth to do good."
Yet for the two women who knew his secret, his face, his tones, the look in his eyes had something of the power attributed to the torpedo. Their faculties were benumbed by the sharp shock of contact with his horrible pain. The sound of his voice set Julie's heart beating so cruelly that she could not trust herself to speak; she was afraid that he would see the full extent of his power over her.
One day she took the opportunity of speaking plainly to him of Julie's charms and merits, and urged him to spend a short time in Moscow before Christmas. Nicolas, who had no difficulty in guessing what she was aiming at, persuaded her to be explicit on the matter, and she owned frankly that her hope was to see their sinking fortunes restored by his marriage with her dear Julie!
Such an event must inevitably send ghastly echoes through a woman's life, and here is one of the most terrible of the reverberations that troubled Julie's love from time to time. Several years had gone by. The Marquis de Vandenesse wore mourning for his father, and succeeded to his estates. One evening, therefore, after dinner it happened that a notary was present in his house.
This quiet, emotionless, observant man cannot win her love, but he can bring her peace. Will you cease from all correspondence with her, and renounce all claim to her? Remember that Julie's whole future depends upon your answer. Her father will force her to obey him; prove that you are worthy of her love by removing all obstacles to her obedience.
"Do you, Thérèse?" A kiss fell on Julie's cheek. "Ce soir, j'ai beaucoup prié la Sainte Vierge pour vous!" she said, in a timid and hurried whisper. Julie made no immediate reply. She rose from her knees, her hand still clasped in that of the crippled girl. "Did you put those pictures on my mantel-piece, Thérèse?" "Yes." "Why?" The child hesitated.
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