The
restraint under which the young girls of the upper class live gives
incredible force to any explosion of feeling, and to meet an
impassioned lover is one of the greatest dangers they can encounter.
Never had Emilie and Maximilien allowed their eyes to say so much that
they dared never speak. Carried a way by this intoxication, they
easily forgot the petty stipulations of pride, and the cold
hesitancies of suspicion. At first, indeed, they could only express
themselves by a pressure of hands which interpreted their happy
thoughts.
After slowing pacing a few steps in long silence, Mademoiselle de
Fontaine spoke. "Monsieur, I have a question to ask you," she said
trembling, and in an agitated voice. "But, remember, I beg, that it is
in a manner compulsory on me, from the rather singular position I am
in with regard to my family."
A pause, terrible to Emilie, followed these sentences, which she had
almost stammered out. During the minute while it lasted, the girl,
haughty as she was, dared not meet the flashing eye of the man she
loved, for she was secretly conscious of the meanness of the next
words she added: "Are you of noble birth?"
As soon as the words were spoken she wished herself at the bottom of a
lake.
"Mademoiselle," Longueville gravely replied, and his face assumed a
sort of stern dignity, "I promise to answer you truly as soon as you
shall have answered in all sincerity a question I will put to you!"
--He released her arm, and the girl suddenly felt alone in the world, as
he said: "What is your object in questioning me as to my birth?"
She stood motionless, cold, and speechless.
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