Chapter 21 Chapter 2

"At last!" she cried, throwing herself upon me, "you are here, and how pale you are!" So I told her what happened between me and my father. "Ah! God! I thought so," said she, "and when Joseph came to inform us of your father's arrival, I trembled as if I were in danger. Poor friend! It was I who made you suffer. Maybe it would be better for you to leave me than to have a quarrel with your father. But I'm not messing with him at all. We live in peace, and the days to come will be quieter. He knows full well you need a mistress, and I'll be yours Mistress, he should be happy about this, because I love you, know your situation, and don't ask too much of you. Have you told him about our future plans?"

"As I said, that was the thing that pissed him off the most, because he saw evidence of our love in our idea." "then what should we do?" "Let us stay together, my good Margaret, and let this storm pass." "Can you go there?" "It will definitely pass." "But will your father stop there?" "What do you think he will do?" "How should I know? A father will do anything to make his son obey his will. To make you abandon me, to remind you of my past life, and perhaps make it up for me Come up with something new."

"Of course you know I love you." "Yes, but I also know that sooner or later you will have to obey your father, and you may be persuaded by him in the end." "No, Marguerite, I will persuade him in the end. He's lost his temper at the gossip of a few friends; but he has a good heart and integrity, and he will change his mind. Besides, After all, what does this have to do with me!" "Don't say that, Armand, I'd like anything but to be thought to be the reason why you and your family are falling apart; forget it today, and go back to Paris tomorrow. Your father will follow him as you have done." If you think about it carefully, maybe you will understand each other well. Don't violate his principles and pretend to make some concessions to his wishes; don't seem to care too much about me, and he will let things go like this. Optimistic Some, my friend, and have faith in one thing: whatever happens, your Marguerite is yours."

"Did you swear to me?" "Should I swear to you?" How tender and sweet it is to heed the counsel of a beloved voice!Margaret and I have been going back and forth about our plans throughout the day, like we've learned that we have to get there faster, and we're expecting every moment to see what's going to happen.Fortunately, the day finally passed, and nothing new happened. The next day, I set off at ten o'clock and arrived at the hotel at noon. My father has gone out. I went back to my own house, hoping he might have been there too.No one ever came.I went to the notary's house again, but there was no one there.

I went back to the hotel and waited until six o'clock, but my father didn't come back. I went back to Bougival again. I saw Marguerite, who was not waiting for me, as she had been the day before, but was sitting by the fire, which was already in need of a fire. She was deeply lost in thought.I approached her armchair and she didn't hear me, didn't even look back, and when I pressed my lips to her forehead, she shuddered as if awakened by the kiss. . "You startled me," she said to me. "Where's your father?" "I didn't see him. I don't know what happened. I couldn't find him, either in the hotel or where he might be."

"Okay, let's go tomorrow." "I wanted to wait for him to send someone for me. I thought I did everything I was supposed to do." "No, my friend, it is not enough. Go back to your father, especially to-morrow." "Why does it have to be tomorrow instead of some other day?" "Because," said Marguerite, blushing a little at my question, "because the more you ask, the quicker we will be forgiven." Throughout the day Marguerite was always dazed, absent-minded, and worried.In order to get her answer, I always have to repeat my words to her twice.She attributed this preoccupation to the events of the past two days and to her anxiety about the future.

I comforted her all night, and the next day she urged me to leave with restlessness I couldn't understand. Like the day before, my father was away, but he left me this letter on his way out: If you come to see me again today, wait until four o'clock, and if I don't come back by four o'clock, come to dinner with me tomorrow, and I must have a word with you. I waited until the time appointed in the letter; my father did not come, and I went away. The previous day I found Margaret frowning, and this day I saw Margaret as if she had a fever and was very emotional.Seeing me go in, she hugged me tightly and cried in my arms for a long time.

I asked her why she suddenly felt so sad.But she grew more and more sad, to my great amazement.She didn't give me any plausible reasons, and what she said were all excuses a woman makes when she doesn't want to tell the truth. After she calmed down a bit, I told her the result of this trip, and showed her the letter from my father, asking her to pay attention. According to the letter, we can think more optimistically. When she read this letter and thought of what I had done, she burst into tears so much that I had to call Nanine.We were afraid that her nerves would be irritated, so we didn't say a word about it. We just helped the poor crying girl to the bed and let her lie down, but she held my hands and kept kissing them.

I asked Nanine whether, while I was away, her mistress had received any letters, or had any guests come to make her look like this, but Nanine replied that she had not come. No one ever sent anything. But something must have happened since yesterday, and the more Marguerite kept it from me, the more disturbed I felt. In the evening, she seemed a little calmer.She asked me to sit at the foot of her bed, and repeated to me her loyalty to love.Then she smiled at me again, but reluctantly, because no matter how much she tried to restrain herself, there were always tears in her eyes. I tried my best to get her to tell the real reason of her grief, but she kept telling me over and over the same remote reasons that I have already told you.

She finally fell asleep in my arms, but instead of resting her, this sleep was destroying her body, and from time to time she let out a scream and woke up suddenly.After she was sure that I was indeed still with her, she made me swear to love her forever. This constant pain continued into the next morning and I had no idea what was causing it.Then Marguerite fell asleep in a doze.She hasn't slept well for two nights. The break wasn't too long this time. At about eleven o'clock Marguerite woke up, and when she saw that I was up, she looked around blankly and cried out. "Are you leaving now?"

"No," I said, taking her hands, "but I want you to sleep a little longer, it's still early." "What time are you going to Paris?" "Four o'clock." "So early? Did you stay with me until Paris?" "Of course, haven't I always been like this?" "How happy!" "Shall we go to lunch?" she continued absently. "if you are willing to." "And then until you leave, will you keep your arms around me?" "Okay, and I'll be back as soon as possible." "Are you back yet?" she said, looking at me with a terrified look. "of course." "Yes, you will come back tonight. I am waiting for you as usual. You still love me. We are still as happy as we have been since we met." These words were stammered and broken, and she seemed to have something difficult to say in her heart, so that I was always worried about whether Marguerite would go crazy. "Listen," I said to her, "you are ill, and I cannot leave you like this. I wrote to my father to ask him not to wait for me." "No, no," she cried suddenly, "don't do that, your father will blame me for not letting you go to him when he wants to see you; no, no, you must go, you must go Besides, I'm not sick, I'm in good health, I just had a nightmare, and I haven't fully woken up yet!" From then on, Margaret forced a smile, and she stopped crying. When the time came, and I must go, I kissed her, and asked her if she would accompany me to the station, I hoped a walk would comfort her; a change of air would comfort her. I really want to spend more time with her. She agreed, put on an overcoat, and accompanied me with Nanine, so as not to be alone on the way home. I almost decided not to go any number of times, but the thought of going and coming soon and the fear of causing my father's displeasure supported me.I finally got on the train and left. "See you tonight," I said to Margaret as we parted. She didn't answer me. No answer to this sentence, she had done it once before.And that time, you remember, Count G spent the night at her house; but that was so far away that I don't seem to have any memory of it.If I was afraid of anything, it was certainly not Marguerite who cheated on me. When I arrived in Paris, I went straight to Prudence's house, and asked her to see Marguerite, hoping that her enthusiasm and jovial temper would cheer her up. I broke in unannounced, and Prudence was in the dressing-room. "Ah!" she said to me anxiously, "was Marguerite with you?" "No." "Is she well?" "She's not feeling well." "Then she won't come today?" "Must she come?" Madame Duvernoy blushed, and answered me with a little embarrassment: "I mean, now that you're in Paris, doesn't she come here to meet you?" "She's not coming." I looked at Prudence, who lowered her eyes, and it seemed from her expression that she seemed afraid that I would not go away. "I have come to ask you to stay with her, my dear Prudence, if you have nothing to do, please go and see Marguerite to-night, and you will be with her, and you may sleep there. I never I've never seen her like this before, I'm really afraid she's going to fall ill." "I'm going to supper in town to-night," replied Prudence, "and can't see Marguerite, but I can see her to-morrow." I took leave of Madame Duvernoy, who seemed to be as preoccupied as Marguerite; and when I reached my father's, he gave me a good first look. He held out his hand to me. "I am glad that you have come to see me twice, Armand," he said to me. "It gives me hope that you have thought of me as much as I have of you." "May I take the liberty to ask you, father, what is the result of your consideration?" "It turns out, my boy, that I have greatly exaggerated the seriousness of the rumour, and I promise to show you a little mercy." "What did you say? Dad!" I exclaimed happily. "I say, my dear boy, that every young man must have a mistress, and from what I have learned lately, I would rather know that your mistress is Mademoiselle Gautier than anyone else. "What a father I am! How happy you make me!" We talked like this for a while, and then we ate together.My father was gracious throughout dinner. I was anxious to go back to Bougival to tell Marguerite of this welcome change.I've been looking at the clock on the wall. "You are watching the time," my father said to me. "You are anxious to leave me. Oh, young man! You always do that, sacrificing sincere affection for dubious love." "Don't say that, papa! Margaret loves me, I'm sure of that." My father didn't answer, he looked neither suspicious nor convinced. He kept insisting that I spend the night with him and let me go the next day.But Marguerite, whom I had left, was ill, and I told him this, and then I asked his permission to go back and see her early, and promised him to come back the next day. The weather is fine, and he will accompany me to the platform. I have never been so happy. The future life I have been pursuing for a long time has finally arrived. I never loved my father like this. As I was about to leave, he finally asked me to stay, and I refused. "So you love her very much?" he asked me. "Crazy in love!" "Then go!" He stroked his forehead with his hand, as if to drive away a thought, then he opened his mouth as if to tell me something, but he just shook my hand, and suddenly left me, and said aloud to me: "Okay, see you tomorrow!"