He is jealous of Cathelineau!"
"Cathelineau?" said Agatha, blushing now much more deeply than she had
done before.
"Yes, Cathelineau, the postillion."
"No, not Cathelineau the postillion; but Cathelineau the Saint of Anjou,
and the hero of St. Florent, and of Saumur. He at any rate has linked
my name with that of a man worthy of a woman's love."
"Worthy, Agatha, had his birth and early years been different from what
they were."
"Worthy as he is of any woman's love," said Agatha. "Great deeds and
noble conduct make birth of no avail, to give either honour or
disgrace."
"But, Agatha, surely you would not wed Cathelineau, were he to ask you?"
"Why should you ask that question, Henri?" said she: "are the words
which Adolphe Denot has uttered in his wild insanity of such weight, as
to make you regard as possible such an event? Have I not told you I
would wed no one without your sanction? Do you not know that Cathelineau
has never spoken to me but the coldest words of most distant respect?
Do you not know that his heart and soul are intent on other things than
woman's love? I, too, feel that this is not the time for love.
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