You are quite disinterested, for you
have so much confidence in yourself that you regard the nomination as
deputy as a sufficient fortune.
"You will have a struggle with Madame de Chavoncourt; she will want
you to pledge your word. All your future life, my son, lies in that
evening. But, understand clearly, I have nothing to do with it. I am
answerable only for Legitimist voters; I have secured Madame de
Watteville, and that means all the aristocracy of Besancon. Amedee de
Soulas and Vauchelles, who will both vote for you, have won over the
young men; Madame de Watteville will get the old ones. As to my
electors, they are infallible."
"And who on earth has gained over Madame de Chavoncourt?" asked
Savarus.
"Ask me no questions," replied the Abbe. "Monsieur de Chavoncourt, who
has three daughters to marry, is not capable of increasing his wealth.
Though Vauchelles marries the eldest without anything from her father,
because her old aunt is to settle something on her, what is to become
of the two others? Sidonie is sixteen, and your ambition is as good as
a gold mine. Some one has told Madame de Chavoncourt that she will do
better by getting her daughter married than by sending her husband to
waste his money in Paris. That some one manages Madame de Chavoncourt,
and Madame de Chavoncourt manages her husband."
"That is enough, my dear Abbe. I understand. When once I am returned
as deputy, I have somebody's fortune to make, and by making it large
enough I shall be released from my promise.
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