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Updated: September 13, 2025
Gilberte raised her adorable bare arm before her face to shield her vision from the frightful picture. "O Heaven! what is that you say? It is cruel of you to destroy all the pleasure of my morning in this way. No, no; I won't think of such things. They are too mournful." Henriette could not refrain from smiling in spite of her anxiety.
They had scarce more than struck into the Rue Maqua, indeed, when they became aware of several pairs of eyes turned on the column from one of the tall windows of the factory, and as they drew nearer recognized Delaherche and his wife Gilberte, their elbows resting on the railing of the balcony, and behind them the tall, rigid form of old Madame Delaherche.
Gilberte the last words of their father at the moment of his flight, "I have been betrayed; and I must suffer for all!" And his sincerity could hardly be called in question; for he was then in one of those moments of decisive crisis in which the truth forces itself out in spite of all calculation. "He must have accomplices then," murmured Maxence. Although he had spoken very low, Mme.
"All my father's friends are not as indulgent as you are," said Maxence, "M. Desclavettes, for instance." "Have you seen him?" "Yes, last night, about twelve o'clock. He came to ask us to get father to pay him back, if we should ever see him again." "That might be an idea!" Mlle. Gilberte started. "What!" said she, "you, too, sir, can imagine that my father has run away with millions?"
I do not regret what I have done." A long pause followed; and they remained standing, facing each other, somewhat embarrassed. Mlle. Gilberte felt ashamed of the disorder of her dress. M. de Tregars wondered how he could have been bold enough to enter this house. "You have heard of our misfortune," said the young girl at last. "I read about it this morning, in the papers."
She laughed and she cried with pleasure and emotion, the poor woman; and, whilst draping it over her shoulders, "Well, well, my dear children," she said: "your father, after all, is not such a bad man." Of which they did not seem very well convinced. "One thing is sure," remarked Mlle. Gilberte: "to permit himself such liberality, papa must be awfully rich."
For forty-eight hours his mind had been taxed beyond measure, his nerves had been wrought up to an almost intolerable degree of exaltation. As soon as he closed his eyes, it was with a merciless precision that his imagination presented to him all the events which had taken place since that afternoon in the Place-Royale when he had ventured to declare his love to Mlle. Gilberte.
Two of them, M. Chapelain and old Desormeaux, were perfectly able to appreciate him at his just value; but, in affirming that he made half a million a year, M. Favoral had, as it were, thrown over his shoulders that famous ducal cloak which concealed all deformities. Without waiting for his wife's answer, M. Favoral brought his protege in front of Mlle. Gilberte.
But he manifested so much shame at his ignorance, and so much desire to be instructed, that I felt moved in his favor. Then his countenance was most winning, his voice of a superior tone; and finally he offered me sixty francs a month. In short, he is now my pupil." As well as she could, Mlle. Gilberte was hiding her blushes behind a music-book.
M. de Gartlauben, just is he was going away, promised me he would attend to your uncle's case, and although I shall not be here, my wife will keep an eye to it." Since Madame Delaherche had made her appearance in the apartment Gilberte had not once taken her anxious eyes from off her face. Would she speak, would she tell what she had seen, and keep her son from starting on his projected journey?
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