originally fine nature struggling against incipient corruption.
Moved by one of the incalculable whims of the very wealthy, he
determined to try to rescue the unhappy child.

It was not difficult to obtain control of her, as she belonged to
no one. He gave her a name, and placed her in one of the best
convent schools. Before long her benefactor had the satisfaction of
observing that the seeds of evil died away and disappeared. She
developed an amiable, rather indolent character, correct and quiet
manners, and a rare beauty.

When she grew up he married her. Their married life was peaceful
and pleasant; in spite of the great difference in their ages, he
had unbounded confidence in her, and she deserved it.

Married people do not live in such close communion in France as
they do with us; so that their claims upon each other are not so
great, and their disappointments are less bitter.

She was not happy, but contented. Her character lent itself to
gratitude. She did not feel the tedium of wealth; on the contrary,
she often took an almost childish pleasure in it. But no one could
guess that, for her bearing was always full of dignity and repose.
People suspected that there was something questionable about her
origin, but as no one could answer questions they left off asking
them. One has so much else to think of in Paris.

She had forgotten her past. She had forgotten it just as we have
forgotten the roses, the ribbons, and faded letters of our youth--
because we never think about them. They lie locked up in a drawer