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in my mind. Uncertainty of that kind is far more certain to fix a woman in a man's soul than to dislodge her. Well, to sum up in two brief sentences my reply to your warnings: As for the opinion of Monsieur Bixiou, I care as little for it as for last year's roses; and as for that other danger which you fear, I cannot tell you whether I love Marianina or not, but this I know, I do _not_ love Madame de l'Estorade. That, I think, is giving you a plain and honest answer. And now, let us leave our master the Future to do what he likes. XI. THE COMTESSE DE L'ESTORADE TO MADAME OCTAVE DE CAMPS Paris, May, 1839. Monsieur Dorlange came last evening to take leave of us. He starts to-day for Arcis-sur-Aube, where the ceremony of inaugurating _his_ statue takes place. That is also the place selected by the Opposition journals for his candidacy. Monsieur de l'Estorade declares that the locality could not have been worse chosen, and that it leaves his election without a chance. Monsieur Dorlange paid his visit early. I was alone. Monsieur de l'Estorade was dining with the Minister of the Interior, and the children were in bed. The conversation interrupted by Madame de la Bastie could now be renewed, as I was about to ask him to continue the history, of which he had only told me the last words, when our old Lucas brought me a letter. It was from my Armand, to let me know that he had been ill since morning, and was then in the infirmary. "Order the carriage," I said to Lucas, in a state of agitation you can easily conceive. "But, madame," replied Lucas, "monsieur has ordered the carriage to fetch him at half-past nine o'clock, and Tony has already started." "Then send for a cab." "I don't know that I can find one," said our old servant, who is a man of difficulties; "it is beginning to rain." Without noticing that remark and without thinking of Monsieur Dorlange, I went hastily to my room to put on my bonnet and shawl. That done, I returned to the salon, where my visitor still remained. "You must excuse me, monsieur," I said to him, "for leaving you so abruptly. I must hasten to the Henri IV. College. I could not possibly pass a night in the dreadful anxiety my son's letter has caused me; he tells me he has been ill since morning in the infirmary." "But," replied Monsieur Dorlange, "surely you are not going alone in a hired carriage to that lonely quarter?" "Lucas will go with me." At that moment
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