II

The same to the same
November 25th.

Next day I found my rooms done out and dusted, and even flowers put in the vases, by old Philippe.  I began to feel at home.  Only it didn’t occur to anybody that a Carmelite schoolgirl has an early appetite, and Rose had no end of trouble in getting breakfast for me.

“Mlle. goes to bed at dinner-time,” she said to me, “and gets up when the Duke is just returning home.”

I began to write.  About one o’clock my father knocked at the door of the small drawing-room and asked if he might come in.  I opened the door; he came in, and found me writing to you.

“My dear,” he began, “you will have to get yourself clothes, and to make these rooms comfortable.  In this purse you will find twelve thousand francs, which is the yearly income I purpose allowing you for your expenses.  You will make arrangements with your mother as to some governess whom you may like, in case Miss Griffith doesn’t please you, for Mme. de Chaulieu will not have time to go out with you in the mornings.  A carriage and man-servant shall be at your disposal.”

“Let me keep Philippe,” I said.

“So be it,” he replied.  “But don’t be uneasy; you have money enough of your own to be no burden either to your mother or me.”

“May I ask how much I have?”

“Certainly, my child,” he said.  “Your grandmother left you five hundred thousand francs; this was the amount of her savings, for she would not alienate a foot of land from the family.  This sum has been placed in Government stock, and, with the accumulated interest, now brings in about forty thousand francs a year.  With this I had purposed making an independence for your second brother, and it is here that you have upset my plans.  Later, however, it is possible that you may fall in with them.  It shall rest with yourself, for I have confidence in your good sense far more than I had expected.

“I do not need to tell you how a daughter of the Chaulieus ought to behave.  The pride so plainly written in your features is my best guarantee.  Safeguards, such as common folk surround their daughters with, would be an insult in our family.  A slander reflecting on your name might cost the life of the man bold enough to utter it, or the life of one of your brothers, if by chance the right should not prevail.  No more on this subject.  Good-bye, little one.”

He kissed me on the forehead and went out.  I cannot understand the relinquishment of this plan after nine years’ persistence in it.  My father’s frankness is what I like.  There is no ambiguity about his words.  My money ought to belong to his Marquis son.  Who, then, has had bowels of mercy?  My mother?  My father?  Or could it be my brother?

I remained sitting on my grandmother’s sofa, staring at the purse which my father had left on the mantelpiece, at once pleased and vexed that I could not withdraw my mind from the money.  It is true, further speculation was useless.  My doubts had been cleared up and there was something fine in the way my pride was spared.