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Updated: June 6, 2025
"You, Genevieve, have a balanced mind, calm, just. If only my cousin had your equilibrium!" "Oh! Maurice, Maurice...." A tear ran down Genevieve's eyelashes. She closed her eyes. He took the lovely head in his hands and his lips rested on her pure forehead. They remained so for one marvellous, never-to-be-forgotten second. When he left her Maurice met Albert Styvens.
Then the Duke's strong arms were about her, and she sank gladly back as if she were falling into a flood of light. But his swift words brought her back. "Esperance, my darling, we have no time to lose. Come with me. The Countess Styvens is dying. She would not send for you, she would not spoil your triumph. But she can absolve you. She can loose the pearls.
"You may have no fish this evening," said the professor genially. "As I was away meeting you, I could not put out my net." "But we did it, father," said Esperance, "and I hope that Count Styvens will have some magnificent luck. We go fishing this evening." "So, you are a fisherwoman too, Mademoiselle?" "We fish every morning, and we shall be very glad to have you join us," said the girl quietly.
"All the world has not the candour of a Count Styvens," he said. This unfortunate sentence exactly answered a fleeting thought that was passing in Esperance's brain. "So much the worse for 'all the world," she said quietly and left him. Her father and Doctor Potain came in at this moment. "What are you plotting against me?" she said, going up to them. Francois caressed her velvet cheek.
"My father," said Esperance, "has been as indulgent to me as always." "Thanks for these tidings," said the Duke. "Do you think he will receive me to-morrow, if I go to him?" "Oh! certainly, after the fete; a little while after, for first he wished to speak to Count Styvens," she said timidly.
Next morning Albert Styvens asked Maurice to show him the portrait of Esperance. He gazed at it a long time in silent admiration. He could gaze his fill at a portrait without outraging the conventions. "What marvellous delicacy! Oh! the blue of the eyes! The mother of pearl of the temples!" He sat down, quivering with emotion, and looked frankly at Maurice.
He was looking at her so strangely that she stammered and fled into the next room, where she had seen Mlle. Frahender disappear. "That man frightens me," she whispered, pressing close to her old friend. "Who frightens you, dear child?" "Count Styvens." "That gentlemanly young man, who is so considerate?" Esperance did not dare to speak her thought. "That is not the way that others look at me."
In truth, Albert Styvens was stepping ashore, holding in his arms a child of two or three years. He put it down carefully, and held out his hand to a poor, bent old woman, who tried to straighten up to thank the kind gentleman. Francois and Germaine came up to the young man, who pressed the philosopher's hand and presented his respects to Mme.
He is in love with little Esperance Darbois." "The actress? But she is engaged to Count Styvens." "It is the truth I have told you," replied the valet, proud of his own importance, "and if you will meet me in the grove, during dinner, I will tell you some more." "Thanks, I know enough now," said the maid dryly, leaving him. She disappeared, but Gustave preened himself, certain of success.
And then, as the women were preparing to leave the library, "Tell me, Esperance, who is the Countess Styvens?" "A great lady at court, and oh! so charming." "Is Count Albert Styvens of the Legation any relation of hers?" "Yes, father, he is her son. But why do you ask that?" "Your godfather spoke to me of this young man, who, it seems, wants to complete his studies in philosophy."
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