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Updated: June 26, 2025
"You have said it," returned du Portail, "and you must not think that our young friend, if he accepts the marriage, will be called upon to show a gratuitous devotion. Lydie is very agreeable in person; she has talents, a charming disposition, and she can bring to bear, in her husband's interest, a strong influence in public life.
"Mademoiselle Lydie de la Peyrade!" exclaimed Cerizet; "are you sure of the name?" "I've heard Madame Katte, her nurse, who also does the cooking, call her so a thousand times, monsieur; though, generally, neither Monsieur Bruneau, the valet, nor Madame Katte say much. It's like talking to the wall to try and get any information out of them.
Still, she allowed herself from time to time to be treated to the play. She walked in the Tuileries when it was fine. These were all her pleasures, for she led a sedentary life. Lydie, who worshiped her father, knew absolutely nothing of his sinister gifts and dark employments. Not a wish had ever disturbed this pure child's pure life.
After crossing several rooms Corentin was on the point of taking la Peyrade into that usually occupied by Lydie when employed in cradling or dandling her imaginary child, when suddenly they were stopped by the sound of two or three chords struck by the hand of a master on a piano of the finest sonority. "What is that?" asked la Peyrade.
But it is more than eleven years now since he has been trying to restore the reason of a daughter of one of his friends, Mademoiselle Lydie de la Peyrade. She has the best advice, I can tell you; the very first doctors in Paris; only this morning they had a consultation. But so far nothing has cured her; and they have to watch her pretty close; for sometimes she gets up and walks at night "
Katt sat weeping; Corentin paced the room, stopping now and again to gaze at Lydie. "She is paying her father's debt," said he. "Is there a Providence above? Oh, I was wise not to have a family. On my word of honor, a child is indeed a hostage given to misfortune, as some philosopher has said."
La Peyrade was not obliged to pretend to eagerness, that which he felt was genuine. "Lydie de la Peyrade," said Corentin, "is nearly thirty, but her innocence, joined to a gentle form of insanity, has kept her apart from all those passions, ideas, and impressions which use up life, and has, if I may say so, embalmed her in a sort of eternal youth. You would not think her more than twenty.
"Dead! Poisoned!" said he to himself. "Ah! here is the doctor!" he exclaimed, hearing the sound of wheels. Contenson, who came with his mulatto disguise removed, stood like a bronze statue as he heard Lydie say: "Then you do not forgive me, father? But it was not my fault!" She did not understand that her father was dead. "Oh, how he stares at me!" cried the poor crazy girl.
Now I shall serve you not only with zeal, but with enthusiasm, I may say fanaticism." As Cerizet was concluding this oath of fidelity at the door of the study, he heard a woman's voice which was not that of Lydie. "Is he in his study, the dear commander?" said that voice, with a slightly foreign accent. "Yes, madame, but please come into the salon.
"Could you spare a copper, kind lydie, to assist a poor orphan what's laid up with lumbago in the feet. I've bin bed-ridden fer ten years, lydie, and I lost both me legs in th' battle of Waterloo. On'y a penny for the battered 'ero good, kind lydie." At supper Nickie declined to unmask. He would not remove his preposterous false nose.
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