I knew not that this woman, so light and trifling
in appearance, was capable of one of those lively and sincere
attachments, which neither time nor change of fortune could
destroy or diminish. She had a particular friend, a madame
Boncault, the widow of a stockbroker, and she was anxious to
contribute to her well-doing. With this view she solicited of me
the place of lady in waiting for this much-esteemed individual.
Astonished at the request I put a hasty negative on it.
"If you refuse me this fresh favor," said madame de Forcalquier,
"you will prevent me from profiting by your kindness to myself."
"And why so?" inquired I.
"I owe to madame Boncault," answered she, "more than my life; I
am indebted to her for tranquillity, honor, and the high estimation
in which the world has been pleased to hold me. I have now an
opportunity of proving my gratitude, and I beseech of you to
assist my endeavors."
"But tell me, first," cried I, "what is the nature of this very
important service you say madame de Boncault has rendered you;
is it a secret, or may I hear it?"
"Certainly," replied the countess, "although the recital is
calculated to bring the blush of shame into my cheek. Are we
alone, and secure from interruption?"
I rang and gave orders that no person should be suffered to
disturb us; after which madame de Forcalquier proceeded
as follows:--
"I was scarcely seventeen years old, when my parents informed me
that they had disposed of my hand, and that I must prepare myself
to receive a husband immediately.
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