"
"No. I shall give them les Rouxey out and out. Rosalie is fond of les
Rouxey."
"You are a queer man with your daughter! It does not occur to you to
ask me if I am fond of les Rouxey."
Rosalie, at once sent for, was informed that she was to marry Monsieur
de Soulas one day early in the month of May.
"I am very much obliged to you, mother, and to you too, father, for
having thought of settling me; but I do not mean to marry; I am very
happy with you."
"Mere speeches!" said the Baroness. "You are not in love with Monsieur
de Soulas, that is all."
"If you insist on the plain truth, I will never marry Monsieur de
Soulas--"
"Oh! the _never_ of a girl of nineteen!" retorted her mother, with a
bitter smile.
"The _never_ of Mademoiselle de Watteville," said Rosalie with firm
decision. "My father, I imagine, has no intention of making me marry
against my wishes?"
"No, indeed no!" said the poor Baron, looking affectionately at his
daughter.
"Very well!" said the Baroness, sternly controlling the rage of a
bigot startled at finding herself unexpectedly defied, "you yourself,
Monsieur de Watteville, may take the responsibility of settling your
daughter. Consider well, mademoiselle, for if you do not marry to my
mind you will get nothing out of me!"
The quarrel thus begun between Madame de Watteville and her husband,
who took his daughter's part, went so far that Rosalie and her father
were obliged to spend the summer at les Rouxey; life at the Hotel de
Rupt was unendurable.
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