When I entered this room, I was firmly
resolved to convince you, no matter how, that you had been
deceived. God knows that it was not my fault if I did not
succeed. There are some sacrifices that are above human
strength."
M. Wilkie deigned to smile. "Oh! yes, I saw your little game," he
said, with a knowing air. "But I had been well posted, and
besides, it is not very easy to fool me."
Madame d'Argeles did not even hear him. "Perhaps destiny is weary
of afflicting us," she continued; "perhaps a new life is about to
begin. Through you, Wilkie. I can again be happy. I, who for
years have lived without even hope. But will you have courage to
forget?"
"What?"
She hung her head, and in an almost inaudible voice replied, "The
past, Wilkie."
But with an air of the greatest indifference, he snapped his
fingers, and exclaimed: "Nonsense! What is past is past. Such
things are soon forgotten. Paris has known many such cases. You
are my mother; I care very little for public opinion. I begin by
pleasing myself, and I consult other people afterward; and when
they are dissatisfied, I tell them to mind their own business."
The poor woman listened to these words with a joy bordering on
rapture. One might have supposed that the strangeness of her
son's expressions would have surprised her--have enlightened her
in regard to his true character--but no.
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