"
"She worked diligently, you said, so as to improve herself?"
"Marguerite knows all that an unusually talented girl can learn in
four years, when she finds herself very unhappy, and study proves
her only refuge and consolation."
"If she wrote you a note would it be written grammatically, and be
free from any mistakes in spelling?"
"Oh, certainly!" exclaimed Pascal, and a sudden inspiration made
him pause abruptly. He darted to his own room, and a minute later
he returned with a package of letters, which he laid on the table,
saying: "Here, mother, read and see for yourself."
Madame Ferailleur drew her spectacles from their case, and, after
adjusting them, she began to read.
With his elbows on the table, and his head resting upon his hands,
Pascal eagerly watched his mother, anxious to read her impressions
on her face. She was evidently astonished. She had not expected
these letters would express such nobility of sentiment, an energy
no whit inferior to her own, and even an echo of her own
prejudices. For this strange young girl shared Madame
Ferailleur's rather bigoted opinions. Again and again she asked
herself if her birth and past had not created an impassable abyss
between Pascal and herself. And she had not felt satisfied on
this point until the day when the gray-haired magistrate, after
hearing her story, said: "If I had a son, I should be proud to
have him beloved by you!"
It soon became apparent that Madame Ferailleur was deeply moved,
and once she even raised her glasses to wipe away a furtive tear
which made Pascal's heart leap with very joy.
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