One evening Olympe had gone somewhere or other, and had met Marguerite,
who for once had not spared the foolish creature, so that she had had to
retire in confusion. Olympe returned in a fury, and Marguerite fainted
and had to be carried out. Olympe related to me what had happened,
declared that Marguerite, seeing her alone, had revenged herself upon
her because she was my mistress, and that I must write and tell her to
respect the woman whom I loved, whether I was present or absent.
I need not tell you that I consented, and that I put into the letter
which I sent to her address the same day, everything bitter, shameful,
and cruel that I could think of.
This time the blow was more than the unhappy creature could endure
without replying. I felt sure that an answer would come, and I resolved
not to go out all day. About two there was a ring, and Prudence entered.
I tried to assume an indifferent air as I asked her what had brought
her; but that day Mme. Duvernoy was not in a laughing humour, and in a
really moved voice she said to me that since my return, that is to say
for about three weeks, I had left no occasion untried which could give
pain to Marguerite, that she was completely upset by it, and that the
scene of last night and my angry letter of the morning had forced her to
take to her bed. In short, without making any reproach, Marguerite
sent to ask me for a little pity, since she had no longer the moral or
physical strength to endure what I was making her suffer.
"That Mlle. Gautier," I said to Prudence, "should turn me out of her own
house is quite reasonable, but that she should insult the woman whom I
love, under the pretence that this woman is my mistress, is a thing I
will never permit."
"My friend," said Prudence, "you are under the influence of a woman who
has neither heart nor sense; you are in love with her, it is true, but
that is not a reason for torturing a woman who can not defend herself."
"Let Mlle. Gautier send me her Comte de N. and the sides will be equal."
"You know very well that she will not do that. So, my dear Armand, let
her alone. If you saw her you would be ashamed of the way in which you
are treating her. She is white, she coughs--she won't last long now."