She has spent the sixty years of her
life so completely out of the world, that she has retained the freshness
and sweetness of her youth untainted in the least degree. Can there be
magical philtre equal to this--a pure unselfish life, far away from the
clamour of cities?
The old servant who waits upon me is seventy-five years of age, and
remembers Ma'amselle Cydalise from her childhood. She is always singing
the praises of her mistress, and she sees that I like to hear them. "Ah,
ma'amselle," she said to me, "to marry a Lenoble is to marry one of the
angels. I will not say that the old seigneur was not hard towards his
son. Ah, yes, but it was a noble heart. And the young monsieur--that one
who died in Rouen, the Poor!--ah, that he was kind, that he was gracious!
What of tears, what of regrets, when the Old chased him!"
My position is quite recognised. I think the very cowboy in the
farmyard--a broad-shouldered lad, with a good-natured mindless face, and
prodigious wooden shoes like clumsy canoes--even the cowboy knows that I
am to be Madame Lenoble of Cotenoir. Cotenoir is the Windsor Castle of
this district; Beaubocage is only Frogmore. Yes, dear, the bond is signed
and sealed. Even if I did not love M. Lenoble, I have bound myself to
marry him; but I do love him, and thank him with all my heart for having
given a definite end and aim to my life.
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