The Honor of the Name
So it was really Maurice d'Escorval whom the Marquis de Sairmeuse had seen leaving
Martial was not certain of it, but the very possibility made his heart swell with anger.
"What part am I playing here, then?" he exclaimed, indignantly.
He had been so completely blinded by passion that he would not have been likely to
discover the real condition of affairs even if no pains had been taken to deceive him.
Lacheneur's formal courtesy and politeness he regarded as sincere. He believed in the
studied respect shown him by Jean; and the almost servile obsequiousness of
Chanlouineau did not surprise him in the least.
And since Marie-Anne welcomed him politely, he concluded that his suit was
Having himself forgotten, he supposed that everyone else had ceased to remember.
Moreover, he was of the opinion that he had acted with great generosity, and that he was
entitled to the deep gratitude of the Lacheneur family; for M. Lacheneur had received the
legacy bequeathed him by Mlle. Armande, and an indemnity, besides all the furniture he
had chosen to take from the chateau, a total of at least sixty thousand francs.
"He must be hard to please, if he is not satisfied!" growled the duke, enraged at such
prodigality, though it did not cost him a penny.
Martial had supposed himself the only visitor at the cottage on the Reche; and when he
discovered that such was not the case, he became furious.
"Am I, then, the dupe of a shameless girl?" he thought.
He was so incensed, that for more than a week he did not go to Lacheneur's house.
His father concluded that his ill-humor and gloom was caused by some misunderstanding
with Marie-Anne; and he took advantage of this opportunity to gain his son's consent to
an alliance with Blanche de Courtornieu.
A victim to the most cruel doubts and fears, Martial, goaded to the last extremity,
"Very well! I will marry Mademoiselle Blanche."