The Argosy — page 216: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Burgomaster’s Daughter. 199 fatigue. As to the pompous burgomaster, he was the meekest of children in her presence; and it was as good as a play to see him ordered about, and hear him responding—“ Oui, ma mere,” to every word she said. ‘‘A pretty pass you have brought your daughter to, Alexandre Warenne. You have ruined her health, her reputation, and her peace of mind; and all to gratify your abominable pride.” ‘ Oul, ma mere.” ‘‘ Well, now, if she doesn’t die, she must go into a convent; there’s no other fate open to her.” ‘OQ mother, mother!” And the poor Burgomaster broke down with a great cry. ‘Unless she chooses to marry the man whom I can get for her.” ‘¢ But, mother, she likes young Bastoigne.” ‘¢ Bah! What business has a girl to like anybody but her father and mother, and grandmother? Besides, the Bastoignes won’t have her.” “ But if you could manage them, mother?” To this humiliation was the Burgomaster come now. Madame Warenne smiled superior. ‘A nice way to manage them, to let them think that I am come here to coax them back! No; let me do things my own way, please. Nobody in the Ardennes will take Lucille now, but I know a man at Louvain who will be glad to have her. He is a little consumptive, and the ugliest human being that ever walked ; ten women have refused him, and he is getting now to despair of a wife. I'll go to him next week.” Quite aghast, the Burgomaster argued and expostulated, but ended by giving in. No one, in fact, argued very long with old Madame Warenne. : Under her care Lucille got better; the brisk and cheery presence of the little woman acted like a restorative ; and no sooner was the invalid able to travel than she whisked her off to Spa. And this she did without having lowered her flag in the least to the .Bastoignes, although she permitted Jules, as a great favour, to come and take leave of Lucille. She knew the girl’s pale innocent face would haunt him, and shake his promise to his mother. As for Lucille herself, she could not hear of Jules’ generous journey to Paris, and all his love and devotion, without being touched. It seemed to her that the scales were fallen from her eyes, and in Jules she saw the true gentleman, for whom her heart had yearned so long. And so through these thoughts her love went back to him in a better and more trusting way than of old; it went back in sure confidence and esteem of his character. But these feelings were hopeless, for Jules had promised never to ask her to be his wife again, and her father had repented, and humbled his pride in vain. Thus there was nothing left for her but submission to the fate which his pride and her own vanity had brought on her. At Spa she was introduced by her grandmother to Monsieur CoOMmicoooKks (C(O)