in this duel it is not M. de la Marche who would be in danger."

"Then it would be Bernard," cried Edmee. "Well, I should hate M. de la
Marche, if he insisted on a duel with this poor boy, who only knows how
to handle a stick or a sling. How can such ideas occur to you, abbe?
You must really loathe this unfortunate Bernard. And fancy me getting
my husband to cut his throat as a return for having saved my life at the
risk of his own. No, no; I will not suffer any one either to challenge
him, or humiliate him, or persecute him. He is my cousin; he is a
Mauprat; he is almost a brother. I will not let him be driven out of
this home. Rather I will go myself."

"These are very generous sentiments, Edmee," answered the abbe. "But
with what warmth you express them! I stand confounded; and, if I were
not afraid of offending you, I should confess that this solicitude for
young Mauprat suggests to me a strange thought."

"Well, what is it, then?" said Edmee, with a certain brusqueness.

"If you insist, of course I will tell you: you seem to take a deeper
interest in this young man than in M. de la Marche, and I could have
wished to think otherwise."

"Which has the greater need of this interest, you bad Christian?" said
Edmee with a smile. "Is it not the hardened sinner whose eyes have never
looked upon the light?"

"But, come, Edmee! You love M. de la Marche, do you not? For Heaven's
sake do not jest."