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Updated: May 20, 2025
But such were not Lucie's feelings in letting him go, I will be bound; nor yours." "Mine partly," Marie said. "I am the wife now of a trader, though one honoured in his class; but have still a little of your feelings, Emilie, and remember that the blood of the De Moulins runs in Philip's veins, and hope that he will do credit to it. I don't think that Lucie has any such feelings.
It is winter, he is seated in the corner by the fire, and before him, sitting in the light reflected by a green lampshade upon which dark silhouettes of jockey-riders are running at full speed, his wife is busying herself with some embroidery. Every few moments they look at each other and smile, he over his book and she over her work; the lover never tired of admiring Lucie's delicate fingers.
She learns her lessons, sings in the chapel, knows something of compote-making, and can embroider with skilful little fingers almost after Soeur Lucie's own heart. She still holds aloof from her companions, turning to Soeur Lucie for society, though rather with the feeling of the simple-hearted little nun being bon camarade, than with any deeper sentiment of friendship or respect.
The worthy man had lost an arm at Waterloo; he was a relative of Lucie, a good-natured old fellow, amiable and lively, delighting in arranging his apartments into a sort of Bonapartist chapel and giving little entertainments with cake and punch, while Lucie's mother, a cousin of the captain, did the honors.
After delivering the goods altogether I have done it about five times, I return home. The Letts wait to move until I go away; I did not succeed in trailing them and honestly would not want to very much. I have my private reasons for not getting into Lucie's way. Besides, why should I? I am sure that we all are working for the same purpose, but perhaps from different standpoints.
An Unlucky Night I Fall in Love with the Two Sisters, and Forget Angela A Ball at My House Juliette's Humiliation My Return to Pasian Lucie's Misfortune A Propitious Storm On my reappearance, Madame Orio told me, with many heart-felt thanks, that I must for the future consider myself as a privileged and welcome friend, and the evening passed off very pleasantly.
He resisted for a week, but then sold everything he had, borrowed the money to pay Lucie's debts, and tried in vain to free himself from that weight, and to get her expelled from the town, but she always returned.
And all this was effaced, lost forever! The captain was dead; Lucie's mother was dead, and Lucie herself, his beloved Lucie, was dead, after giving him six years of cloudless happiness. Certainly, he would never marry again. Oh, never!
I felt sufficient control over my own feelings to resist any attempt against her virtue which my conscience might afterwards reproach me with. The mere thought of taking advantage of her innocence made me shudder, and my self-esteem was a guarantee to her parents, who abandoned her to me on the strength of the good opinion they entertained of me, that Lucie's honour was safe in my hands.
Madame de la Tour recovered but slowly from her unfortunate relapse; and De Valette, endeavoring to hide his mortification and chagrin, under an assumed reserve, was no longer the gay and constant companion of Luciè's amusements and pursuits.
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