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Updated: May 5, 2025
But I should never succeed if I had you near me, and Grandpapa Chandore, and your two aunts." Dionysia was forcibly struck by these objections, of which she had had no idea. She said nothing. "Still, suppose we might possibly escape all such dangers. What would our life be!
And she had taken refuge in the sitting-room; and there, taking her usual seat, as in the happy days when Jacques spent all his evenings by her side, she had remained long hours immovable, looking as if, with her mind's eye, she was following invisible scenes far away. Grandpapa Chandore and the two aunts were indescribably anxious.
The young advocate looked among his papers; and soon he had found what he wanted. "Look here," he said, "in your third examination, I find this, " "'QUESTION. You were shortly to marry Miss Chandore? ANSWER. Yes. Q For some time you had been spending your evenings with her? A. Yes, all. Q. Except the one of the crime? A. Unfortunately. Q. Then your betrothed must have wondered at your absence?
"Yes," added the other old lady, "if all Sauveterre thinks Jacques guilty, let them also say, 'His own friend has become his judge." M. Folgat shook his head, and said, "I must have more minute information. The marquis mentioned to me a M. Seneschal, mayor of Sauveterre." M. de Chandore looked at once for his hat, and said, "To be sure!
That same evening, according to their arrangement, she left for Paris, accompanied by M. Folgat and old Anthony. At Sauveterre, everybody, M. de Chandore as much as Jacques himself, blamed the Marquis de Boiscoran. He persisted in remaining in Paris, it is true: but it was certainly not from indifference; for he was dying with anxiety.
While he was thus replying, he had folded up his napkin, and lighted a candle. "Good-night!" he said to his sisters. "I won't see you again to-night," and, bowing deeply to Miss Chandore, he went out, his candle in his hand. "Where is your brother going?" Dionysia asked eagerly. "To his room, madam. His room is just opposite on the other side of the staircase." Dionysia was as red as fire.
"I stopped; or, rather, I was nailed to the spot by that voice which for a long time had held such entire control over my heart. She came up to me, looking even more excited than I was. Her lips trembled, and her eyes wandered to and fro. "'Well, she said, 'it is no longer a fancy: this time you marry Miss Chandore. "The time for half-measures had passed. "'Yes, I replied.
He entered the room, and standing by the door, sharing the general excitement, he was watching by turns, Dionysia, M. de Chandore, and the two spinsters. Dionysia was then twenty years old. It could not be said that she was uncommonly beautiful; but no one could ever forget her again who had once seen her.
"Dear grandpapa, I bring you back your bonds," and then she rained a shower of kisses upon the old gentleman's furrowed cheeks. If any thing could astonish M. de Chandore, it was the idea that there should exist in this world a man with a heart hard, cruel, and barbarous enough, to resist his Dionysia's prayers and tears, especially if they were backed by twenty thousand francs.
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