d of.

In vain Marguerite dismissed her guests, changed her way of life;
the duke was not to be heard of. I was the gainer in so, far that my
mistress now belonged to me more completely, and my dream was at length
realized. Marguerite could not be without me. Not caring what the result
might be, she publicly proclaimed our liaison, and I had come to live
entirely at her house. The servants addressed me officially as their
master.

Prudence had strictly sermonized Marguerite in regard to her new manner
of life; but she had replied that she loved me, that she could not live
without me, and that, happen what might, she would not sacrifice the
pleasure of having me constantly with her, adding that those who were
not satisfied with this arrangement were free to stay away. So much
I had heard one day when Prudence had said to Marguerite that she had
something very important to tell her, and I had listened at the door of
the room into which they had shut themselves.

Not long after, Prudence returned again. I was at the other end of the
garden when she arrived, and she did not see me. I had no doubt, from
the way in which Marguerite came to meet her, that another similar
conversation was going to take place, and I was anxious to hear what
it was about. The two women shut themselves into a boudoir, and I put
myself within hearing.

"Well?" said Marguerite.

"Well, I have seen the duke."

"What did he say?"

"That he would gladly forgive you in regard to the scene which took
place, but that he has learned that you are publicly living with M.
Armand Duval, and that he will never forgive that. 'Let Marguerite leave
the young man,' he said to me, 'and, as in the past, I will give her all
that she requires; if not, let her ask nothing more from me.'"

"And you replied?"

"That I would report his decision to you, and I promised him that I
would bring you into a more reasonable frame of mind. Only think, my
dear child, of the position that you are losing, and that Armand can
never give you. He loves you with all his soul, but he has no fortune
capable of supplying your needs, and he will be bound to leave you one
day, when it will be too late and when the duke will refuse to do any
more for you. Would you like me to speak to Armand?"

Marguerite seemed to be thinking, for she answered nothing. My heart
beat violently while I waited for her reply.

"No," she answered, "I will not leave Armand, and I will not conceal the