Valentine by George Sand Read Free Book Online Page B

eighty years old.”
    â€œEverybody would like to be as old as that, if it would justify all the vagaries of the heart and the mind. Although you make yourself out to be old and harmless, you still have a very great influence over my daughter and my household. Make that influence serve the common good; cease to set before Valentine that deplorable example, the memory of which is unfortunately alive in her mind.”
    â€œOh ! there’s no danger! Isn’t Valentine on the eve of being married ? What do you fear after that ? Her errors, if she makes any, will concern nobody but her husband ; our task will be accomplished.”
    â€œYes, madame, I know that you reason so; I won’t waste my time arguing about your principles ; but, I say again, remove the last trace that still lingers about you of the life that has left a stain on us all.”
    â€œGreat God, madame! have you finished ? She of whom you speak is my granddaughter, the daughter of my own son, and Valentine’s only sister. Those are facts which will make me always deplore her fault instead of cursing it. Has she not expiated it cruelly ? Will your implacable hatred pursue her in exile and poverty ? Why this persistence in rasping a wound which will bleed until I have breathed my last ?”
    â€œMadame, listen to what I say : your
estimable
granddaughter is not so far away as you pretend to believe. I am not your dupe, you see.”
    â€œGreat God !” cried the old woman drawing herselfup, “what do you mean ? Explain yourself! my child! my poor child ! where is she ? Tell me ; I ask you on my knees !”
    Madame de Raimbault, who had pleaded the false in order to ascertain the truth, was satisfied with the pathetically sincere tone with which the marchioness destroyed her suspicions.
    â€œYou shall know, madame,” she replied, “but not before I do. I swear that I will soon find out the hiding-place she has chosen in this neighborhood, and will drive her out of it. Wipe away your tears ; here are our people.”
    Valentine entered the calèche, but alighted again after putting on over her clothes a blue merino skirt, which took the place of a riding-habit, the latter being too heavy for the season. Monsieur de Lansac offered his hand to assist her to mount a handsome English horse, and the ladies took their places in the calèche ; but as Monsieur de Lansac’s horse was being led out of the village stable, he fell and could not get up. Whether as a result of the heat, or of the quantity of water he had been allowed to drink, he had a violent attack of colic, and was absolutely unable to travel. Monsieur de Lansac was compelled to leave the groom at the inn to look after him, and to take a seat in the carriage.
    â€œWell,” exclaimed the countess, “is Valentine to ride home alone ?”
    â€œWhy not ?” said the Comte de Lansac, wishing to spare Valentine the discomfort of a drive of two hours in her angry mother’s company. “Mademoiselle will not be alone if she rides beside the carriage, and we can talk with her perfectly well. Her horse is so clever that I see no objection to leaving him to her guidance.”
    â€œBut it is hardly proper,” said the countess, over whom Monsieur de Lansac had acquired great influence.
    â€œEverything is proper in this region, where there is no one to decide what is proper and what is not. At the bend in the road we enter the Black Valley, where we shall not meet a cat. Moreover, it will be so dark ten minutes hence that we shall have no reason to fear that she will be seen.”
    This momentous discussion having terminated in Monsieur de Lansac’s favor, the calèche turned into one of the narrow roads of the valley. Valentine followed at a canter, and the darkness deepened.
    As they rode farther into the valley the road became narrower. Soon it was impossible for Valentine to ride beside the carriage. For some time she