_ CHAPTER LXXXIV. THE FATHER AND THE FIANCEE
Philippe hastened to the boudoir, where his sister awaited him. She ran to embrace him with a joyous air.
"What is it, Andree?" cried he.
"Something which makes me happy. Oh! very happy, brother."
"And you come back to announce it to me."
"I come back for ever," said Andree.
"Speak low, sister; there is, or is going to be, some one in the next room who might hear you."
"Who?"
"Listen."
"M. le Comte de Charny," announced the servant.
"He! oh, I know well what he comes for."
"You know!"
"Yes, and soon I shall be summoned to hear what he has to say."
"Do you speak seriously, my dear Andree?"
"Listen, Philippe. The queen has brought me suddenly back, and I must go and change my dress for one fit for a fiancee." And saying this, with a kiss to Philippe, she ran off.
Philippe remained alone. He could hear what passed in the adjoining room. M. de Taverney entered, and saluted the count with a recherche though stiff politeness.
"I come, monsieur," said Charny, "to make a request, and beg you to excuse my not having brought my uncle with me, which I know would have been more proper."
"A request?"
"I have the honor," continued Charny, in a voice full of emotion, "to ask the hand of Mademoiselle Andree, your daughter."
The baron opened his eyes in astonishment--"My daughter?"
"Yes, M. le Baron, if Mademoiselle de Taverney feels no repugnance."
"Oh," thought the old man, "Philippe's favor is already so well-known, that one of his rivals wishes to marry his sister." Then aloud, he said, "This request is such an honor to us, M. le Comte, that I accede with much pleasure; and as I should wish you to carry away a perfectly favorable answer, I will send for my daughter."
"Monsieur," interrupted the count, rather coldly, "the queen has been good enough to consult Mademoiselle de Taverney already, and her reply was favorable."
"Ah!" said the baron, more and more astonished, "it is the queen then----"
"Yes, monsieur, who took the trouble to go to St. Denis."
"Then, sir, it only remains to acquaint you with my daughter's fortune. She is not rich, and before concluding----"
"It is needless, M. le Baron; I am rich enough for both."
At this moment the door opened, and Philippe entered, pale and wild looking.
"Sir," said he, "my father was right to wish to discuss these things with you. While he goes up-stairs to bring the papers I have something to say to you."
When they were left alone, "M. de Charny," said he, "how dare you come here to ask for the hand of my sister?" Charny colored. "Is it," continued Philippe, "in order to hide better your amours with another woman whom you love, and who loves you? Is it, that by becoming the husband of a woman who is always near your mistress, you will have more facilities for seeing her?"
"Sir, you pass all bounds."
"It is, perhaps; and this is what I believe, that were I your brother-in-law, you think my tongue would be tied about what I know of your past amours."
"What you know?"
"Yes," cried Philippe, "the huntsman's house hired by you, your mysterious promenades in the park at night, and the tender parting at the little gate."
"Monsieur, in heaven's name----"
"Oh, sir, I was concealed behind the baths of Apollo when you came out, arm in arm with the queen."
Charny was completely overwhelmed for a time; then, after a few moments, he said, "Well, sir, even after all this, I reiterate my demand for the hand of your sister. I am not the base calculator you suppose me; but the queen must be saved."
"The queen is not lost, because I saw her on your arm, raising to heaven her eyes full of happiness; because I know that she loves you. That is no reason why my sister should be sacrificed, M. de Charny."
"Monsieur," replied Charny, "this morning the king surprised me at her feet----"
"Mon Dieu!"
"And she, pressed by his jealous questions, replied that I was kneeling to ask the hand of your sister. Therefore if I do not marry her, the queen is lost. Do you now understand?"
A cry from the boudoir now interrupted them, followed by another from the ante-chamber. Charny ran to the boudoir; he saw there Andree, dressed in white like a bride: she had heard all, and had fainted. Philippe ran to where the other cry came from; it was his father, whose hopes this revelation of the queen's love for Charny had just destroyed; struck by apoplexy, he had given his last sigh. Philippe, who understood it, looked at the corpse for a few minutes in silence, and then returned to the drawing-room, and there saw Charny watching the senseless form of his sister. He then said, "My father has just expired, sir; I am now the head of the family; if my sister survive, I will give her to you in marriage."
Charny regarded the corpse of the baron with horror, and the form of Andree with despair. Philippe uttered a groan of agony, then continued, "M. de Charny, I make this engagement in the name of my sister, now lying senseless before us; she will give her happiness to the queen, and I, perhaps, some day shall be happy enough to give my life for her. Adieu, M. de Charny----" and taking his sister in his arms, he carried her into the next room. _