"
Isabelle, as she spoke, drew forth from a bureau a roll of manuscript,
tied with a rose-coloured ribbon, which she gave to the baron with a
radiant smile.
"Now kiss me, and go," she said, holding up her cheek for his caress.
"You are going to work for me, and this is your reward. Good-night, my
beloved, good-night."
It was long after he had regained the quiet of his own room ere de
Sigognac could compose himself sufficiently to set about the light task
imposed upon him by Isabelle. He was at once enchanted and cast down;
radiant with joy, and filled with sorrow; in a seventh heaven
of ecstasy, and in the depths of despair. He laughed and he wept
alternately, swayed by the most tumultuous and contradictory emotions.
The intense happiness of at last knowing himself beloved by his adored
Isabelle made him exultant and joyful, while the terrible thought that
she never would be his made his heart sink within him. Little by little,
however, he grew calmer, as his mind dwelt lovingly upon the picture
Isabelle had drawn of the Chateau de Sigognac restored to its ancient
splendour, and as he sat musing he had a wonderful vision of it--so
glowing and vivid that it was like reality. He saw before him the facade
of the chateau, with its large windows shining in the sunlight, and its
many weather-cocks, all freshly gilded, glistening against the bright
blue sky, whilst the columns of smoke rising from every chimney, so
long cold and unused, told of plenty and prosperity within, and his good
faithful Pierre, in a rich new suit of livery, stood between Miraut and
Beelzebub at the great entrance door awaiting him.
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