Falling, she intended to fall gracefully.
"No one shall see me weep; no one shall hear me complain," she said to
her despondent father; "try to imitate me."
And on her return to the Chateau de Courtornieu, she was a stoic.
Her face, although pale, was as immobile as marble, beneath the curious
gaze of the servants.
"I am to be called mademoiselle as in the past," she said, imperiously.
"Anyone forgetting this order will be dismissed."
A maid forgot that very day, and uttered the prohibited word, "madame."
The poor girl was instantly dismissed, in spite of her tears and
protestations.
All the servants were indignant.
"Does she hope to make us forget that she is married and that her
husband has deserted her?" they queried.
Alas! she wished to forget it herself. She wished to annihilate all
recollection of that fatal day whose sun had seen her a maiden, a wife,
and a widow.
For was she not really a widow?
Only it was not death which had deprived her of her husband, but an
odious rival--an infamous and perfidious creature lost to all sense of
shame.
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