I will not undertake to
plead till the day after I am returned."
"Do this one thing," said the Abbe. "Come to the Hotel de Rupt: there
is a young person of nineteen there who, one of these days, will have
a hundred thousand francs a year, and you can seem to be paying your
court to her--"
"Ah! the young lady I sometimes see in the kiosk?"
"Yes, Mademoiselle Rosalie," replied the Abbe de Grancey. "You are
ambitious. If she takes a fancy to you, you may be everything an
ambitious man can wish--who knows? A Minister perhaps. A man can
always be a Minister who adds a hundred thousand francs a year to your
amazing talents."
"Monsieur l'Abbe, if Mademoiselle de Watteville had three times her
fortune, and adored me into the bargain, it would be impossible that I
should marry her--"
"You are married?" exclaimed the Abbe.
"Not in church nor before the Maire, but morally speaking," said
Savarus.
"That is even worse when a man cares about it as you seem to care,"
replied the Abbe. "Everything that is not done, can be undone. Do not
stake your fortune and your prospects on a woman's liking, any more
than a wise man counts on a dead man's shoes before starting on his
way."
"Let us say no more about Mademoiselle de Watteville," said Albert
gravely, "and agree as to the facts. At your desire--for I have a
regard and respect for you--I will appear for Monsieur de Watteville,
but after the elections.
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