I did not sleep on the way to Paris. Once there, what was I going to
do? I did not know; I only knew that it must be something connected with
Marguerite. I went to my rooms to change my clothes, and, as the weather
was fine and it was still early, I made my way to the Champs-Elysees. At
the end of half an hour I saw Marguerite's carriage, at some distance,
coming from the Rond-Point to the Place de la Concorde. She had
repurchased her horses, for the carriage was just as I was accustomed
to see it, but she was not in it. Scarcely had I noticed this fact, when
looking around me, I saw Marguerite on foot, accompanied by a woman whom
I had never seen.
As she passed me she turned pale, and a nervous smile tightened about
her lips. For my part, my heart beat violently in my breast; but I
succeeded in giving a cold expression to my face, as I bowed coldly to
my former mistress, who just then reached her carriage, into which she
got with her friend.
I knew Marguerite: this unexpected meeting must certainly have upset
her. No doubt she had heard that I had gone away, and had thus been
reassured as to the consequences of our rupture; but, seeing me again
in Paris, finding herself face to face with me, pale as I was, she must
have realized that I had not returned without purpose, and she must have
asked herself what that purpose was.
If I had seen Marguerite unhappy, if, in revenging myself upon her,
I could have come to her aid, I should perhaps have forgiven her, and
certainly I should have never dreamt of doing her an injury. But I found
her apparently happy, some one else had restored to her the luxury which
I could not give her; her breaking with me seemed to assume a character
of the basest self-interest; I was lowered in my own esteem as well as
in my love. I resolved that she should pay for what I had suffered.
I could not be indifferent to what she did, consequently what would hurt
her the most would be my indifference; it was, therefore, this sentiment
which I must affect, not only in her eyes, but in the eyes of others.
I tried to put on a smiling countenance, and I went to call on
Prudence. The maid announced me, and I had to wait a few minutes in
the drawing-room. At last Mme. Duvernoy appeared and asked me into her
boudoir; as I seated myself I heard the drawing-room door open, a light
footstep made the floor creak and the front door was closed violently.