"
"Thy aunt Jeanne," said Willan, slowly. "Is she thy aunt?"
"Yes," said Victorine, sadly; "she that was thy father's wife, whom thou
wilt not have in thy house."
This was a bold stroke on Victorine's part. To tell truth, she had had
no idea one moment before of saying any such thing; but a sudden emotion
of resentment got the better of her, and the words were uttered before
she knew it.
Willan was angry. "All alike," he thought to himself,--"a bad lot. I
dare say the woman has set the girl here for nothing else than to try to
play on my feelings." And it was in a very cold tone that he replied to
Victorine,--
"Thou art not able to judge of such matters at thy age. Thy aunt is
better here than there. Thou knowest," he added in a gentler tone,
seeing Victorine's great black eyes swimming in sudden tears, "that she
was never as mother to me. I had never seen her till I returned a man
grown."
Victorine was sobbing now. "Oh," she cried, "what ill luck is mine! I
have angered thee; and my aunt did especially charge me that I was to
treat thee well. She doth never speak an ill word of thee, sir, never!
Do not thou charge my hasty words to her.
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