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Updated: June 9, 2025
Colonel von Tresten, however, was very far from offering himself in such a shape to a girl that had jilted the friend he loved, insulted the woman he esteemed; and he stood there like a figure of soldierly complacency in marble. Her pencilled acknowledgement of the baroness's letter, and her reply to it almost as much, was construed as an intended insult to that lady, whose champion Tresten was.
Startled and horrified at this beginning of the story, Mrs Stuart was in a state of excited indignation at the end. The Baroness had magnified facts and distorted truths until she represented Berene Dumont as a monster of depravity; a vicious being who had been for a short time the recipient of the Baroness's mistaken charity, and who had repaid kindness by base ingratitude, and immorality.
Directly in front of him, behind the baroness's pale, malicious little face, his mother, his mother whom he believed to be two hundred leagues away from the terrible storm, stood leaning against the wall, gazing at him, holding toward him her divine face streaming with tears, but proud and radiant none the less in her Bernard's great success.
Groups of many-coloured figures in hoops and powder and brocade sauntered over the green, and dappled the plain with their shadows. On the other side from the Baroness's windows you saw the Pantiles, where a perpetual fair was held, and heard the clatter and buzzing of the company. A band of music was here performing for the benefit of the visitors to the Wells.
If the words were those of a freshman, the accent and pose were those of a graduate. The Baroness's first thought was to rise and leave the room, but an invincible charm held her back. She was not mistress enough of her eyes to dare to let them meet Octave's; so she turned them away and pretended to look at the old lady.
Naturally, I said, I felt insulted at this. All that I felt was that I had a right to go in person and beg the Baron's and the Baroness's pardon the more so since, of late, I had been feeling unwell and unstrung, and had been in a fanciful condition. And so forth, and so forth.
"Do you talk in your sleep?" "I sleep soundly, like a child; do you not remember?" The color mounted to the baroness's face, and Villefort turned awfully pale. "It is true," said he, in so low a tone that he could hardly be heard. "Well?" said the baroness. "Well, I understand what I now have to do," replied Villefort.
Should she take out those roses and let them fall? Her father might see, might notice Fiorsen's put two and two together! He would consider she had been insulted. Had she? She could not bring herself to think so. It was too pretty a compliment, as if he wished to tell her that he was playing to her alone. The baroness's words flashed through her mind: "He wants saving from himself. Pity!
They had some time before, both being already married, fallen violently in love with each other; a double marriage was not to be interfered with without attracting attention. A divorce was proposed. On the Baroness's side it could be effected, on that of the Count it could not.
"My worship of a man of genius a great artist? Oh! that has all come to an end since I have found out that his devotion belongs to an elderly lady with a fair complexion and light hair. I am only sorry for him." Jacqueline had great hopes that these cruel words would be reported as they were to her stepmother, and, of course, they did not mitigate the Baroness's uneasiness.
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