"
Had Martial seen the smile upon Chanlouineau's lips when he requested
him to leave the date for the wedding a blank, he would certainly have
suspected that he had been caught in a snare. But he was in love.
"Ah! Marquis," remarked his father one day, "Chupin tells me you are
always at Lacheneur's. When will you recover from your _penchant_ for
that little girl?"
Martial did not reply. He felt that he was at that "little girl's"
mercy. Each glance of hers made his heart throb wildly. By her side
he was a willing captive. If she had asked him to make her his wife he
would not have said no.
But Marie-Anne had not this ambition. All her thoughts, all her wishes
were for her father's success.
Maurice and Marie-Anne had become M. Lacheneur's most intrepid
auxiliaries. They were looking forward to such a magnificent reward.
Such feverish activity as Maurice displayed! All day long he hurried
from hamlet to hamlet, and in the evening, as soon as dinner was over,
he made his escape from the drawing-room, sprang into his boat, and
hastened to the Reche.
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