"To have gone through a series of lies and of false explanations would not, perhaps, have been possible for me. But from the moment that it was only necessary to persist in a 'yes' to save Deschartres, I thought that I ought not to hesitate. My mother insisted:-- "'If M. Deschartres has paid you eighteen thousand francs, we can easily find it out. You would not give your word of honor?' "I felt a shudder, and I saw Deschartres ready to speak out. "'I would give it!' I cried out "'Give it, then,' said my aunt. "'No, Mademoiselle,' said my mother's lawyer, 'don't give it.' "'She shall give it!' cried my mother, to whom I could scarcely pardon this infliction of torture. "'I give it,' I replied;' and God is with me against you in this matter.' "'She has lied! she lies!' cried my mother. 'A bigot, a _philosophailleuse.' She is lying and defrauding herself.' "'Oh, as to that,' said the lawyer, laughing, 'she has the right to do it, since she robs only herself.' "'I will take her with her Deschartres before the justice of the peace,' said my mother. 'I will make her take oath by Christ, by the Gospel!' "'No, Madame,' said the lawyer, 'you will go no further in this matter; and as for you, Mademoiselle, I beg your pardon for the annoyance I have given you. Charged with your interests, I felt obliged to do so.'" Eternal shame to those who make use of any authority to force the secrets of a generous heart, cutting off from it every alternative but that of a loathed deceit, or still more hateful, and scarcely less guilty, betrayal!