"Shall I read that letter, shall I not?" she asked herself, while
listening to the Chavoncourt girls. One was sixteen, the other
seventeen and a half. Rosalie looked upon her two friends as mere
children because they were not secretly in love.--"If I read it," she
finally decided, after hesitating for an hour between Yes and No, "it
shall, at any rate, be the last. Since I have gone so far as to see
what he wrote to his friend, why should I not know what he says to
_her_? If it is a horrible crime, is it not a proof of love? Oh,
Albert! am I not your wife?"
When Rosalie was in bed she opened the letter, dated from day to day,
so as to give the Duchess a faithful picture of Albert's life and
feelings.
"25th.
"My dear Soul, all is well. To my other conquests I have just
added an invaluable one: I have done a service to one of the most
influential men who work the elections. Like the critics, who make
other men's reputations but can never make their own, he makes
deputies though he never can become one. The worthy man wanted to
show his gratitude without loosening his purse-strings by saying
to me, 'Would you care to sit in the Chamber? I can get you
returned as deputy.'
"'If I ever make up my mind to enter on a political career,'
replied I hypocritically, 'it would be to devote myself to the
Comte, which I love, and where I am appreciated.
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