2

"She has only told me that she earned her living with her own hands at one time of her life."

"Well, I am better informed on the subject."

Pascal's amazement was changed to terror. "You, mother, you!"

"Yes; I - I have been to the asylum where she was received and educated. I have had a conversation with two Sisters of Charity who remember her, and it is scarcely an hour since I left the people to whom she was formerly bound as an apprentice."

Standing opposite his mother with one hand convulsively clutching the back of the chair he was leaning on, Pascal tried to nerve himself for some terrible blow. For was not his life at stake? Did not his whole future depend upon the revelations Madame Ferailleur was about to make?" So this was your object in going out, mother?" he faltered.

"Yes."

"And you went without warning me?"

"Was it necessary? What! you love a young girl, you swear in my presence that she shall be your wife, and you think it strange that I should try to ascertain whether she is worthy of you or not? It would be very strange if I did not do so."

"This idea occurred to you so suddenly!"

Madame Ferailleur gave an almost imperceptible shrug of the shoulders, as if she were astonished to have to answer such puerile objections. "Have you already forgotten the disparaging remarks made by our new servant, Madame Vantrasson?"

"Good Heavens!"

"I understood her base insinuations as well as you did, and after your departure I questioned her, or rather I allowed her to tell her story, and I ascertained that Mademoiselle Marguerite had once been an apprentice of Vantrasson's brother-in-law, a man named Greloux, who was formerly a bookbinder in the Rue Saint-Denis, but who has now retired from business. It was there that Vantrasson met Mademoiselle Marguerite, and this is why he was so greatly surprised to see her doing the mistress at the Hotel de Chalusse."

It seemed to Pascal that the throbbing of his heart stopped his breath.

"By a little tact I obtained the Greloux's address from Madame Vantrasson," resumed his mother. "Then I sent for a cab and drove there at once."

"And you saw them?"

"Yes; thanks to a falsehood which doesn't trouble my conscience much, I succeeded in effecting an entrance, and had an hour's conversation with them." His mother's icy tones frightened Pascal. Her slowness tortured him, and still he dared not press her. "The Greloux family," she continued, "seem to be what are called worthy people, that is, incapable of committing any crime that is punishable by the code, and very proud of their income of seven thousand francs a year. They must have been very much attached to Mademoiselle Marguerite, for they were lavish in their protestations of affection when I mentioned her name. The husband in particular seemed to regard her with a feeling of something like gratitude."

"Ah! you see, mother, you see!"

"As for the wife, it was easy to see that she had sincerely regretted the loss of the best apprentice, the most honest servant, and the best worker she had ever seen in her life. And yet, from her own story, I should be willing to swear that she had abused the poor child, and had made a slave of her." Tears glittered in Pascal's eyes, but he breathed freely once more. "As for Vantrasson," resumed Madame Ferailleur, "it is certain that he took a violent fancy to his sister's apprentice. This man, who has since become an infamous scoundrel, was then only a rake, an unprincipled drunkard and libertine. He fancied the poor little apprentice - she was then but thirteen years old - would be only too glad to become the mistress of her employer's brother; but she scornfully repulsed him, and his vanity was so deeply wounded that he persecuted the poor girl to such an extent that she was obliged to complain, first to Madame Greloux, who - to her shame be it said - treated these insults as mere nonsense; and afterward to Greloux himself, who was probably delighted to have an opportunity of ridding himself of his indolent brother-in-law, for he turned him out of the house."

The thought that so vile a rascal as this man Vantrasson should have dared to insult Marguerite made Pascal frantic with indignation. "The wretch!" he exclaimed; "the wretch!" But without seeming to notice her son's anger, Madame Ferailleur continued: "They pretended they had not seen their former apprentice since she had been living in grandeur, as they expressed it. But in this they lied to me. For they saw her at least once, and that was on the day she brought them twenty thousand francs, which proved the nucleus of their fortune. They did not mention this fact, however."

"Dear Marguerite!" murmured Pascal, "dear Marguerite!" And then aloud: "But where did you learn these last details, mother?" he inquired.

"At the asylum where Mademoiselle Marguerite was brought up, and there, too, I only heard words of praise. 'Never,' said the superior, 'have I had a more gifted, sweeter-tempered or more attractive charge.' They had reproached her sometimes for being too reserved, and her self-respect had often been mistaken for inordinate pride; but she had not forgotten the asylum any more than she had forgotten her former patrons. On one occasion the superior received from her the sum of twenty-five thousand francs, and a year ago she presented the institution with one hundred thousand francs, the yearly income of which is to constitute the marriage dowry of some deserving orphan."

Pascal was greatly elated. "Well, mother!" he exclaimed, "well, is it strange that I love her?" Madame Ferailleur made no reply, and a sorrowful apprehension seized hold of him. "You are silent," said he, "and why? When the blessed day that will allow me to wed Marguerite arrives, you surely won't oppose our marriage?"

"No, my son, nothing that I have learned gives me the right to do so."

"The right! Ah, you are unjust, mother."

"Unjust! Haven't I faithfully reported all that was told me, although I knew it would only increase your passion?"

"That's true, but -  - "

Madame Ferailleur sadly shook her head. "Do you think," she interrupted, "that I can, without sorrow, see you choose a girl of no family, a girl who is outside the pale of social recognition? Don't you understand my disquietude when I think that the girl that you will marry is the daughter of such a woman as Baroness Trigault, an unfortunate girl whom her mother cannot even recognize, since her mother is a married woman -  - "

"Ah! mother, is that Marguerite's fault?"

"Did I say it was her fault? No - I only pray God that you may never have to repent of choosing a wife whose past life must ever remain an impenetrable mystery!"

Pascal had become very pale. "Mother!" he said in a quivering voice, "mother!"

"I mean that you will only know so much of Mademoiselle Marguerite's past life as she may choose to tell you," continued the obdurate old lady. "You heard Madame Vantrasson's ignoble allegations. It has been said that she was the mistress, not the daughter, of the Count de Chalusse. Who knows what vile accusations you may be forced to meet? And what is your refuge, if doubts should ever assail you? Mademoiselle Marguerite's word! Will this be sufficient? It is now, perhaps; but will it suffice in years to come? I would have my son's wife above suspicion; and she - why, there is not a single episode in her life that does not expose her to the most atrocious calumny."

"What does calumny matter? it will never shake my faith in her. The misfortunes which you reproach Marguerite for sanctify her in my eyes."