"But I, monsieur, must have, cost what it may, not the affection,--for that does not come at will,--but the esteem of my husband's mother because I am worthy of her esteem. Never, do you understand me, never shall any one say that I was the cause of a rupture between Gerald and his mother, or that I took advantage of his love for me to force myself upon a noble and distinguished family; no, monsieur, no one shall ever say that of me, my pride will not permit it." As she uttered these words Herminie was truly superb in her sadness and dignity. Olivier had too keen a sense of honour himself not to share the young girl's scruples--the same scruples which Gerald, too, had feared, for both the young men knew Herminie's indomitable pride. Nevertheless, Olivier, resolved to make a last effort, said: "But consider well, Mlle. Herminie, I entreat you. Gerald does all that any man of honour can do in offering you his hand. What more do you desire?" "What I desire, monsieur, as I have told you, is to be treated with the consideration which is due me, and which I have a right to expect from M. de Senneterre's family." "But Gerald can be responsible only for himself, mademoiselle. Any attempt to exact more would--" "Say no more, M. Olivier," said Herminie, interrupting him; "you know me, and you know that I have a firm will." "I do, mademoiselle." "Very well. I will never willingly see Gerald again while I live, unless Madame de Senneterre, his mother, comes here--" "Here?" exclaimed Olivier, in astonishment. "Yes, unless Madame la Duchesse de Senneterre comes here and tells me that she consents to my marriage with her son. Then, no one can ever say that I forced myself upon this noble family." This demand--which seemed and which was, in fact, merely the natural outcome of an intense but laudable pride--Herminie uttered simply and naturally, because, filled with a justly high respect for herself, the young girl felt that she asked only what was her just due. But at the first thought, this demand seemed to Olivier so exorbitant that, in his astonishment, he could not help saying: "Madame de Senneterre--come here--to tell you that she consents to your marriage with her son,--why, what are you thinking of, Mlle. Herminie? That exceeds the bounds of possibility!" "And why, monsieur?" asked the young girl, with such ingenuous pride that Olivier, remembering how generous and noble Herminie's character and love were, replied, with no little embarrassment: "You ask why Madame de Senneterre can not come here to tell you that she consents to your marriage with her son?" "Yes, monsieur." "But, mademoiselle, even ignoring the convenances of the fashionable world, the overtures you ask from a lady of Madame de Senneterre's age--" But again interrupting Olivier, the girl said, with a bitter smile: