First Part Chapter 12

MLLE. DE CHAULIEU TO MME. DE L'ESTORADE
February.

At nine o'clock this morning, sweetheart, my father was announced in
my rooms. I was up and dressed. I found him solemnly seated beside the
fire in the drawing-room, looking more thoughtful than usual. He
pointed to the armchair opposite to him. Divining his meaning, I sank
into it with a gravity, which so well aped his, that he could not
refrain from smiling, though the smile was dashed with melancholy.

"You are quite a match for your grandmother in quick-wittedness," he
said. "Come, father, don't play the courtier here," I replied; "you want
something from me."

He rose, visibly agitated, and talked to me for half an hour. This
conversation, dear, really ought to be preserved. As soon as he had
gone, I sat down to my table and tried to recall his words. This is
the first time that I have seen my father revealing his inner
thoughts. He began by flattering me, and he did not do it badly. I was bound to
be grateful to him for having understood and appreciated me.

"Armande," he said, "I was quite mistaken in you, and you have
agreeably surprised me. When you arrived from the convent, I took you
for an average young girl, ignorant and not particularly intelligent,
easily to be bought off with gewgaws and ornaments, and with little
turn for reflection."