And, whatever happiness may fall to your lot in life, rememberthat Cesarine has wished it all to you.".
And she went out at the very moment when the Baroness de Thallerreturned.
"Cesarine!" Mme. de Thaller called, in a voice which sounded atonce like a prayer and a threat.
"I am going to dress myself, mamma," she answered.
"Come back!""So that you can scold me if I am not ready when you want to go?
Thank you, no.""I command you to come back, Cesarine."No answer. She was far already.
Tips, opportunities to make money：need for speed moneyMme. de Thaller closed the door of the little parlor, and returningto take a seat by M. de Traggers,"What a singular girl!" she said.
Tips, opportunities to make money：linkswapMeantime he was watching in the glass what was going on in theother room. The suspicious-looking man was there still, and alone.
A servant had brought him pen, ink and paper; and he was writingrapidly.
"How is it that they leave him there alone?" wondered Marius.
And he endeavored to find upon the features of the baroness ananswer to the confused presentiments which agitated his brain. Butthere was no longer any trace of the emotion which she had manifestedwhen taken unawares. Having had time for reflection, she hadcomposed for herself an impenetrable countenance. Somewhat surprisedat M. de Traggers silence,"I was saying," she repeated, "that Cesarine is a strange girl."Still absorbed by the scene in the grand parlor,"Strange, indeed!" he answered.
"And such is," said the baroness with a sigh, "the result of M. deThaller's weakness, and above all of my own.""We have no child but Cesarine; and it was natural that we shouldspoil her. Her fancy has been, and is still, our only law. Shehas never had time to express a wish: she is obeyed before she hasspoken."She sighed again, and deeper than the first time. "You have justseen," she went on, "the results of that insane education. And yetit would not do to trust appearances. Cesarine, believe me, is notas extravagant as she seems. She possesses solid qualities, - ofthose which a man expects of the woman who is to be his wife."Without taking his eyes off the glass,"I believe you madame," said M. de Traggers.
"With her father, with me especially, she is capricious, wilful,and violent; but, in the hands of the husband of her choice, shewould be like wax in the hands of the modeler."The man in the parlor had finished his letter, and, with anequivocal smile, was reading it over.