h any consequence."
"Gaston, you are hiding some dreadful secret from me, since you speak of
abandoning me at the moment I lose a father."
"Helene, I will never abandon you except with life."
"Ah," cried the young girl, "your life is in danger, and it is thus that
you fear to abandon me. Gaston, you betray yourself; you are no longer
the Gaston of former days. You met me to-day with a constrained joy;
losing me yesterday did not cause you intense sorrow: there are more
important prospects in your mind than in your heart. There is something
in you--pride, or ambition, more powerful than your love. You turn pale,
Gaston; your silence breaks my heart."
"Nothing--nothing, Helene, I assure you. Is it surprising that I am
troubled to find you here, alone and defenseless, and not know how to
protect you; for doubtless this is a man of power. In Bretagne I should
have had friends and two hundred peasants to defend me; here I have no
one."
"Is that all, Gaston?"
"That is, it seems to me, more than enough."
"No, Gaston, for we will leave this house instantly."
Gaston turned pale; Helene lowered her eyes, and placing her hand in
that of her lover--
"Before these people who watch us," said she; "before the eyes of this
woman, we will go away together."
Gaston's eyes lighted up with joy; but somber thoughts quickly clouded
them again. Helene watched this changing expression.
"Am I not your wife, Gaston?" said she; "is not my honor yours? Let us
go."
"But where to place you?" said Gaston.
"Gaston," replied Helene, "I know nothing, I can do nothing; I am
ignorant of Paris--of the world; I only know myself and you; well, you
have opened my eyes; I distrust all except your fidelity and love."
Gaston was in despair. Six months previous, and he would have paid with
his life the generous devotion of the courageous girl.
"Helene, reflect," said Gaston; "if we were mistaken, and this man be
really your father!"
"Gaston, do you forget that you first taught me to distrust him?"
"Oh, yes, Helene, let us go," cried Gaston.
"Where are we to go?" asked Helene; "but you need not reply--if you
know, it is sufficient."
"Helene," said Gaston, "I will not insult you by swearing to respect
your honor; the offer which you have made to-day I have long hesitated
to make--rich, happy, sure for the present of fortune and happiness, I
would have placed all at your feet, trusting to God for the future; but
at this mo
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