Besides, you have no great fortune to
give him. Your mother detests you; you made her a fierce reply which
rankles, and which will be your ruin. When she told you yesterday that
obedience was the only way to repair your errors, and reminded you of
the need for marrying, mentioning Amedee--'If you are so fond of him,
marry him yourself, mother!'--Did you, or did you not, fling these
words in her teeth?"
"Yes," said Rosalie.
"Well, I know her," Monsieur de Grancey went on. "In a few months she
will be Comtesse de Soulas! She will be sure to have children; she
will give Monsieur de Soulas forty thousand francs a year; she will
benefit him in other ways, and reduce your share of her fortune as
much as possible. You will be poor as long as she lives, and she is
but eight-and-thirty! Your whole estate will be the land of les
Rouxey, and the small share left to you after your father's legal
debts are settled, if, indeed, your mother should consent to forego
her claims on les Rouxey. From the point of view of material
advantages, you have done badly for yourself; from the point of view
of feeling, I imagine you have wrecked your life. Instead of going to
your mother--" Rosalie shook her head fiercely.
"To your mother," the priest went on, "and to religion, where you
would, at the first impulse of your heart, have found enlightenment,
counsel, and guidance, you chose to act in your own way, knowing
nothing of life, and listening only to passion!"
These words of wisdom terrified Mademoiselle de Watteville.
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