Old Chesnel was walking up the Grand Rue, as if
by accident, telling all who cared to hear him that du Croisier had set
the most shameful of snares for the d'Esgrignons' honor, and that it
was entirely owing to the forbearance and magnanimity of the family
that he was not prosecuted for slander.
On the evening of that famous day, after the Marquis d'Esgrignon had
gone to bed, the Count, Mlle. Armande, and the Chevalier were left
with the handsome young page, now about to return to Paris. The
charming cavalier's sex could not be hidden from the Chevalier, and he
alone, besides the three officials and Mme. Camusot, knew that the
Duchess had been among them.
"The house is saved," began Chesnel, "but after this shock it will
take a hundred years to rise again. The debts must be paid now; you
must marry an heiress, M. le Comte, there is nothing left for you to
do."
"And take her where you may find her," said the Duchess.
"A second mesalliance!" exclaimed Mlle. Armande.
The Duchess began to laugh.
"It is better to marry than to die," she said. As she spoke she drew
from her waistcoat pocket a tiny crystal phial that came from the
court apothecary.
Mlle. Armande shrank away in horror. Old Chesnel took the fair
Maufrigneuse's hand, and kissed it without permission.
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