Albert's love for Claire--a deep, well-considered love--had contributed
not a little to keep him from the habits and life of the pleasant and
elegant idleness indulged in by his friends. A noble attachment is
always a great safeguard. In contending against it, M. de Commarin had
only succeeded in increasing its intensity and insuring its continuance.
This passion, so annoying to the count, was the source of the most
vivid, the most powerful emotions in the viscount. Ennui was banished
from his existence.
All his thoughts took the same direction; all his actions had but one
aim. Could he look to the right or the left, when, at the end of his
journey, he perceived the reward so ardently desired? He resolved that
he would never have any wife but Claire; his father absolutely refused
his consent. The effort to change this refusal had long been the
business of his life. Finally, after three years of perseverance, he
had triumphed; the count had given his consent. And now, just as he was
reaping the happiness of success, Noel had arrived, implacable as fate,
with his cursed letters.
On leaving M. de Commarin, and while slowly mounting the stairs which
led to his apartments, Albert's thoughts reverted to Claire.
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