“Indeed, no! You are mistaken,” cried Madame d’Ionis excitedly. “I
assure you, you are mistaken. These are legal subtilities which may
deceive a man grown old in the practice of law, but that a _sensible_
young man ought not to accept as an absolute rule of conduct.... If your
father has undertaken the suit, and you admit that he has done so at my
request, it is because he foresaw my intentions. Had he been ignorant of
them, I should greatly regret the fact, and I would think that you did
not entertain the esteem for me that I would have liked to inspire in
the members of your family. In this case where one feels that victory
would be horrible, one does not fear to propose peace before the battle.
To act otherwise is to conceive a false idea of duty. Duty is not a
military password, it is a religion, and a religion which would
prescribe evil, ceases to be one. Hush! speak to me no more of your
charge. Do not place M. d’Ionis’ ambition above my honor, do not make a
sacred thing of this ambition. It is a disgraceful thing, no more, and
no less. Unite your efforts with mine to save these unfortunate people.
Act so that I may find in you a friend after my own heart, rather than
an infallible legislator and an implacable lawyer!”
While speaking thus she gave me her hand and enveloped me in the
enthusiastic fire of her beautiful eyes. I lost my head and covering her
hand with kisses, I felt myself conquered. In fact, I was so in advance
I had been of her opinion before seeing her. I still defended myself
however, for I had sworn to my father that I would not yield to the
sentimental considerations that his client had caused him to foresee in
her letters. Madame d’Ionis would not hear a word of my defense.
“You speak,” said she, “like a good son, who is pleading his father’s
cause, but I would like you better, were you not so good a lawyer.”
“Ah! madame,” I cried heedless of consequences, “do not say that I am
pleading against you, for you would make me hate too much a calling for
which I feel that I have not the requisite insensibility.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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