not expected this ever since the day when you, my devoted daughter,
consented, for the sake of my plans, to submit to the attentions of this
marquis, whom you loathe as much as I despise?"

"But Maurice! Maurice will despise me! I can bear anything, yes,
everything but that."

M. Lacheneur made no reply. Marie-Anne's despair was heart-breaking;
he felt that he could not bear to witness it, that it would shake his
resolution, and he re-entered the house.

But his penetration was not at fault. While waiting to find a revenge
which would be worthy of her, Mlle. Blanche armed herself with a weapon
of which jealousy and hatred so often avail themselves--calumny.

Two or three abominable stories which she concocted, and which she
forced Aunt Medea to circulate everywhere, did not produce the desired
effect.

Marie-Anne's reputation was, of course, ruined by them; but Martial's
visits, instead of ceasing, became longer and more frequent.
Dissatisfied with his progress, and fearful that he was being duped, he
even watched the house.

So it happened that, one evening, when he was quite sure that Lacheneur,
his son, and Chanlouineau were absent, Martial saw a man leave the house
and hasten across the fields.

He rushed after him, but the man escaped him.