When Sauvresy came in, she rose to meet him, and took him
by the hand with a friendly motion.
"Thank you for coming," said she. "Ah, you are very good."
Jenny was only a girl, and Sauvresy detested girls; but her grief
was so sincere and seemed so deep, that he was touched.
"You are suffering, Madame?" asked he.
"Oh, yes, very much."
Her tears choked her, and she concealed her face in her handkerchief.
"I guessed right," thought Sauvresy. "Hector has deserted her.
Now I must smooth the wound, and yet make future meetings between
them impossible."
He took the weeping Jenny's hand, and softly pulled away the
handkerchief.
"Have courage," said he.
She lifted her tearful eyes to him, and said:
"You know, then?"
"I know nothing, for, as you asked me, I have said nothing to
Tremorel; but I can imagine what the trouble is."
"He will not see me any more," murmured Jenny. "He has deserted me."
Sauvresy summoned up all his eloquence. The moment to be persuasive
and paternal had come. He drew a chair up to Jenny's, and sat down.
"Come, my child," pursued he, "be resigned. People are not always
young, you know.
Pages:
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293