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Updated: June 13, 2025
Does he think by these means to compel me to marry the heiress whom he has chose for me, the Mademoiselle de Puymandour?" For the first time Diana learned the name of her rival. "Ah!" moaned she between her sobs, "so it is Mademoiselle de Puymandour that he wants you to marry?" "Yes, the same, or rather her enormous wealth; but may my hand wither before it clasps hers. Do you hear me, Diana?"
Her father, the Count de Puymandour, had died suddenly a month before, owing to chagrin caused by his defeat when a candidate for a seat in the Chamber. The brief note from the despairing mother, in which followed the words, "Have mercy! Give me back my child!" hardly describes the terrible events that occurred in the lonely Chateau to which Norbert had conducted his innocent victim.
He knew that such an idea would never cross Norbert's brain, but there were plenty of persons to suggest it to him. The danger of his position occurred to him, and at the same time he felt that he must frame his future conduct with extreme prudence. He had not given up his views regarding his son's marriage with Mademoiselle de Puymandour.
The suitor for your hand is but little older than yourself; he is very handsome, very wealthy, and is a Marquis by hereditary right." "Has he spoken to you then?" inquired Marie in tones of extreme agitation. "He! Whom do you mean by he?" asked M. de Puymandour; and as his daughter did not reply, he repeated his question. "Who? Why, George de Croisenois."
"I suppose, my son, that it is hardly necessary for me to tell you the young lady's name. Mademoiselle Marie de Puymandour cannot fail to please you. She is excessively pretty, tall, dark, and with a fine figure. You saw her at Mass one day. What do you think of her?" "Think!" stammered Norbert. "Really I " "Pshaw," replied the old gentleman; "I thought that you had begun to use your eyes.
Upon hearing that his dastardly attempt at murder had failed, the Counsellor was for the time utterly overwhelmed with terror, but the news that he had gained from M. de Puymandour calmed his mind in a great measure.
"And you, Marquis, I hear, are to marry Mademoiselle de Puymandour; I could scarcely credit the news." "And why, pray?" "Because I remembered when we used to wait outside a certain garden wall, until we saw a certain door open discreetly." "But you must efface all this from your memory, Montlouis." "Do not be alarmed; save to you, my lips would never utter a word of this.
M. de Puymandour bowed graciously, and stopped to talk with the man, for he was just now seeking for popularity, as he was a candidate, and the elections would shortly take place; and, besides, he never failed to talk to persons who exercised any degree of influence, and he knew that Daumon was a most useful man in electioneering. "Good morning, Counsellor," said he gayly.
Have I ever refused to do what I was ordered? No; I have obeyed you implicitly. I am the son of the wealthiest man in Poitiers, and I have lived like a laborer's child. Whatever your mandates were, I have never complained or murmured at them." "Well, and now I order you to marry Mademoiselle de Puymandour." "Anything but that; I do not love her, and I shall never do so.
The marriage between Norbert and Mademoiselle de Puymandour was entirely deficient in that brief, ephemeral light that shines over the honeymoon. The icy wall that stood between them became each day stronger and taller. There was no one to smooth away inequalities, no one to exercise a kindly influence over two characters, both haughty and determined.
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