For he has all the capabilities of genius,--but they are dormant,--
and the joys of self-indulgence appeal to him more strongly than
high ambition and attainment. And he could not love any women for
more than a week or a month at most,--in which temperament he
exactly resembles the celebrated Miraudin. Now I do not care to be
loved for a week or a month--I wish to be loved for always,--for
always!" she said with emphasis, "Just as your Florian loves you."
Angela's eyes grew soft and pensive.
"Few men are like Florian," she said. Again Sylvie looked at her
doubtfully, and there was a moment's silence. Then Sylvie resumed.
"Will you help me to give a little lesson to Monsieur le Marquis,
Angela?"
"Willingly, if I can. But how?"
"In this way. It is a little drama! To-morrow is Saturday and you
'receive.' 'Tout Paris', artistic Paris, at any rate, flocks to your
studio. Your uncle, the Cardinal Bonpre, is known to be with you,
and your visitors will be still more numerous. I have promised
Fontenelle to meet him here. I am to give him his answer--"
"To what?" enquired Angela.
"To his proposal."
"Of marriage?"
"Dear me, no!" And Sylvie smiled, but there was a look of pain in
her eyes, "He has an idyllic house buried in the Foret St.
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