"And now, darling, since you cannot
with wine, words, or winsomeness divert me from my purpose in making
you declare what you think of me also, let me tell you I have
promised Amelie to bring her your answer to-night!"
The eyes of Le Gardeur shone with a light of loyal affection.
Angelique saw there was no escaping a declaration. She sat
irresolute and trembling, with one hand resting on his arm and the
other held up deprecatingly. It was a piece of acting she had
rehearsed to herself for this foreseen occasion. But her tongue,
usually so nimble and free, faltered for once in the rush of
emotions that well-nigh overpowered her. To become the honored wife
of Le Gardeur de Repentigny, the sister of the beauteous Amelie, the
niece of the noble Lady de Tilly, was a piece of fortune to have
satisfied, until recently, both her heart and her ambition. But now
Angelique was the dupe of dreams and fancies. The Royal Intendant
was at her feet. France and its courtly splendors and court
intrigues opened vistas of grandeur to her aspiring and unscrupulous
ambition.
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