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Updated: May 15, 2025
Lucenay is to come and breakfast with me this morning; he counts only on a tete-a-tete; cause him a very agreeable surprise by joining me, and a few other of his friends, whom I have also advised. "At noon precisely. "Let some one mount a horse immediately," said D'Harville, to a servant who answered the bell, "and deliver these letters."
To obtain new sacrifices from this woman, so blindly generous sacrifices which alone had saved him from the threats of Jacques Ferrand the viscount had sworn to Madame de Lucenay, that, dupe of a scoundrel from whom he had received in payment the forged bill, he ran the risk of being regarded as an accomplice of the forger, having himself put it in circulation.
Madame de Lucenay knew that the viscount was imprudent, prodigal, and careless; but never for a moment had she supposed him capable of an infamous action, not even the slightest indiscretion.
He knew her when she was very small, and he treated her almost as his child, for he was intimately connected with the prince. Madame de Lucenay must have many-acquaintances; she could, perhaps, find us a place." "Doubtless, mamma, but I understand your reserve; you do not know her at all, while my poor father and uncle knew Lord d'Orbigny a little."
"Take care, my dear Lucenay; in abusing this German court you will have a quarrel with D'Harville, the intimate friend of the grand duke, who, besides, received me most kindly the other night at the embassade of where I was presented to him."
"How foolish you are, D'Harville, when you once get a-going," said Lucenay, shrugging his shoulders. "The finger is placed on the trigger," added D'Harville. "Is he not a child childish at his age?" "A little movement on the lock," continued the marquis, "and one goes straight to the land of spirits." With these words the pistol went off. D'Harville had blown his brains out!
How could he discover these two unhappy females, having only as a clew the name of the young girl, Claire, and the fragment of a letter, of which we have spoken, at the bottom of which were the words: "Write to Madame de Lucenay, for M. de Saint-Remy."
Knowing how quickly Madame de Lucenay decided on anything, he imagined that she pushed her audacity and contempt so far that she wished to play the coquette openly and before him with the young duke. It was not so; the duchess felt for her young cousin an affection quite maternal.
"M. Jacques Ferrand." At this name a slight shade passed over the viscount's brow. "Is he really as honest a man as he is reputed to be?" asked he, carelessly, of D'Harville, who then remembered what Rudolph had related to Clemence concerning the notary. "Jacques Ferrand? what a question; why, he is a man of antique probity!" said Lucenay. "As respected as respectable.
The lesson was terrible. Then by degrees, to the cruel anxiety which had contracted the features of Madame de Lucenay succeeded a kind of noble indignation.
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