"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."
"Pascal!"
"What! Am I to scorn her because she has been unfortunate? Am I to
regard her birth as a crime? Am I to despise her because her
MOTHER is a despicable woman? No--God be praised! the day when
illegitimate children, the innocent victims of their mother's
faults, were branded as outcasts, is past."
But Madame Ferailleur's prejudices were too deeply rooted to be
shaken by these arguments. "I won't discuss this question, my
son," she interrupted, "but take care.
Pages:
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288