"I have never forgotten, Charles, that you raised me from the poverty you speak of; and this recollection is the more meritorious on my part, as the poverty you allude to had no terrors for me: on the contrary, I neither felt nor heeded them, and ere I gave you, as a rich man, my heart, I had, perhaps, as many scruples to get over as you were obliged to vanquish, ere you could make up your mind to bestow your affections upon a poor girl like me." "Really, what extreme condescension on your part to accept the hand, spite of my obnoxious 40,000 livres per annum!" "As for your taunt of my father being maintained by your bounty! 'tis the first time you have uttered it--it shall be the last. For nearly the last twelvemonth, my poor father's sight has become so weakened, that he has been compelled to relinquish the labour by which he had hitherto supported himself; by dint of prayers and entreaties, I prevailed on him to accept a small annuity, he consented to receive it." "In order not to be outdone by you in condescension, acting, no doubt, upon that principle, M. Raimond has also vouchsafed to honour me by accepting the means of living comfortably, instead of dying in an hospital." "Say, rather, that my father was desirous of sparing your vanity by not going into an hospital. According to his notions, there would have been no dishonour in accepting such an asylum: old, infirm, unable to maintain himself, as he had hitherto done, by the work of his own hands, he would, without any feeling of degradation, have availed himself of the refuge public charity offers to the honest but unfortunate sufferer. However----" "You would say that, since I so ill appreciate the great kindness of your respectable parent, he will no longer afford me the extreme happiness of maintaining him any longer, but will punish me by going and establishing himself in the hospital?" "Most assuredly; for, certainly, I will not conceal from him the remarks you have made." As she uttered these last words, the voice of Bertha, which, until then, had been firm and collected, began to falter; her powers of endurance were exhausted. She had for some time restrained the swelling tears which nearly choked her; but she could no longer retain her self-command,--she sank back into her chair, and, covering her face with her hands, wept bitterly. M. de Brévannes was hard-hearted, selfish, and proud, yet he possessed considerable intelligence; and spite of the sarcasms on the singular principles of Bertha's father, with regard to the favours of the rich, he was perfectly well aware, that reasonable or otherwise, the conviction of his wife and Pierre Raimond on this subject was deep and sincere. His jokes had merely been a species of cruel sport.