You are a father, my beloved
Wenceslas.
"If you do not come to me in the state I am in, your friends would
think very badly of you. But I love you so madly, that I feel I
should never have the strength to curse you. May I sign myself as
ever,
"YOUR VALERIE."
"What do you say to my scheme for sending this note to the studio at a
time when our dear Hortense is there by herself?" asked Valerie. "Last
evening I heard from Stidmann that Wenceslas is to pick him up at
eleven this morning to go on business to Chanor's; so that gawk
Hortense will be there alone."
"But after such a trick as that," replied Lisbeth, "I cannot continue
to be your friend in the eyes of the world; I shall have to break with
you, to be supposed never to visit you, or even to speak to you."
"Evidently," said Valerie; "but--"
"Oh! be quite easy," interrupted Lisbeth; "we shall often meet when I
am Madame la Marechale. They are all set upon it now. Only the Baron
is in ignorance of the plan, but you can talk him over."
"Well," said Valerie, "but it is quite likely that the Baron and I may
be on distant terms before long."
"Madame Olivier is the only person who can make Hortense demand to see
the letter," said Lisbeth.
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