"Clovis, when I called upon my father to rid me of that woman, I accomplished a sacred duty which cost me dear; for to inflict pain upon another brings the like upon myself. That you should have forced her on me again, was due, I am sure, to fear. I suspected before that you were afraid of her, for what reason I could not guess. The gulf between us is impassable, and as you brood over this fact and know that you have dug it yourself, you will be filled some day with unavailable remorse. The future appals me--I shudder at its contemplation, wondering to what you may be goaded. The conduct of an unscrupulous woman, who has all to gain, I can understand, but yours remains a mystery. What a life! What a future! If at your age you can be so easily fooled by a vulgar _intriguante_, what will become of you when old? How singular a creation is man! You have oppressed, humiliated, abandoned me who loved you for yourself with an ardour that amazes me when I recall it now, and are content to grovel at the feet of one who but likes you for what you can bestow--whom you will know some day and despise. "When your conscience forces you to see what you have done, seek not to wreak vengeance upon me. Henceforth, we dwell apart, and your life and mine have naught in common. You may go your ways on this condition unmolested. Never speak to me, or to the children: never let any member of your coterie invade the apartments I inhabit. The house is large enough. Avoid a scandal. Farewell. To each other we are henceforth dead. "Gabrielle Marquise de Gange." With twitching fingers the marquis passed the letter to the abbé who read and passed it on to mademoiselle. It was not the sort of letter that it would be nice to read aloud. Silence fell upon the group, and by tacit consent all rose and went about their avocations, without venturing to comment on the document. The letter breathed dignity, and there was something fine about the scathing words contemptuously flung at the foe. A vulgar _intriguante_, indeed! Well, why deny that it was true, though the statement was somewhat blunt? Mademoiselle always preferred to consider herself the architect of her own fortunes. On the morrow, the abbé, who, more disconcerted than he chose to admit, by the decided action of the chatelaine, had sallied forth to meditate in private, perceived that she had already taken steps to isolate herself! He found workmen busy in opening a doorway which should give access to the children's wing from the bedroom of the marquise, and a locksmith changing the lock of the postern which gave upon the garden moat.