a
struggle between the jailers and the prisoner, between the despotism of
a dungeon and the liberty of a victim,--it was simply the never-ending
repetition of the first scene played by man when the curtain of the
Creation rose; it was Eve in Paradise.

And now, which of the two, the mother or the watch-dog, had the right of
it?

None of the persons who were about Modeste could understand that maiden
heart--for the soul and the face we have described were in harmony. The
girl had transported her existence into another world, as much denied
and disbelieved in in these days of ours as the new world of Christopher
Columbus in the sixteenth century. Happily, she kept her own counsel,
or they would have thought her crazy. But first we must explain the
influence of the past upon her nature.

Two events had formed the soul and developed the mind of this young
girl. Monsieur and Madame Mignon, warned by the fate that overtook
Bettina, had resolved, just before the failure, to marry Modeste. They
chose the son of a rich banker, formerly of Hamburg, but established in
Havre since 1815,--a man, moreover, who was under obligations to them.
The young man, whose name was Francois Althor, the dandy of Havre,
blessed with a certain vulgar beauty in which the middle classes
delight, well-made, well-fleshed, and with a fine complexion, abandoned
his betrothed so hastily on the day of her father's failure that neither
Modeste nor her mother nor either of the Dumays had seen him since.
Latournelle ventured a question on the subject to Jacob Althor, the
father; but he only shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I really don't
know what you mean."

This answer, told to Modeste to give her some experience of life, was
a lesson which she learned all the more readily because Latournelle
and Dumay made many and long comments on the cowardly desertion. The
daughters of Charles Mignon, like spoiled children, had all their wishes
gratified; they rode on horseback, kept their own horses and grooms, and
otherwise enjoyed a perilous liberty. Seeing herself in possession of
an official lover, Modeste had allowed Francisque to kiss her hand, and
take her by the waist to mount her. She accepted his flowers and all the
little proofs of tenderness with which it is proper to surround the
lady of our choice; she even worked him a purse, believing in such
ties,--strong indeed to noble souls, but cobwebs for the Gobenheims, the
Vilquins, and the Althors.