"Then the money was not sent to Mr. Emerson by you?" inquired Maurice, more bewildered than ever.
"Mr. Emerson? Who is Mr. Emerson? I never heard of the person."
Maurice turned to Bertha. The idea at once suggested itself that she had used her aunt"s name to conceal her own generosity.
"And you, Bertha,--do you also disclaim all knowledge of the transaction?"
"Yes, I only wish I _had_ known."
"It was not you, then?" replied Maurice, more and more astonished. "Who could it have been? I have no intimate friend in Washington but Gaston de Bois, and he has not the power to do me this service."
"Was he aware of the circ.u.mstances which made you need this sum?" asked Bertha.
"He certainly knew something of the transaction, but I do not think"--
"That is enough!" she replied, joyfully. "If he knew anything about it, I know from whom the money came. There is but one person who could have sent it; and that is Madeleine!"
"Madeleine?"
"Yes, Madeleine,--our own, generous Madeleine," returned Bertha. "M. de Bois is her trusted friend and counsellor."
The Countess de Gramont rose up majestically, white with rage.
"But what _right_ has she, the mantua-maker, the tradeswoman, to make use of _my_ name? How did she dare even to allow it to be suspected that I had ever come in contact with a person who has so demeaned herself? It is unpardonable audacity!"
"You little know the full value of the service she has rendered me!"
exclaimed Maurice, unheeding his grandmother"s anger.
"A service which you must not and shall not stoop to accept. Never will I consent to that," returned the countess, fiercely. "Would you profit by her ign.o.ble labor? Has your residence in this plebeian land bowed you as low as that?"
"If," replied Maurice, "it be a blow to my pride to be forced to accept her aid (for it has been tendered in a manner which cannot now be declined), it is a blow which has lifted me up, not bowed me down. It has made me feel that a great spirit which humbles itself and bends meekly to circ.u.mstance and does not regard any toil, nearest to its hand, as too lowly,--that spirit has truest cause for pride, since it earns the privilege of serving others. You have yet to learn that Madeleine"s timely a.s.sistance has saved, not me alone, but our whole family from _disgrace_,--ay, positive _disgrace_! If you would know more on that subject, I refer you to my father. For myself, I will seek Madeleine and discover whether she has indeed made me so greatly her debtor."
The countess would have detained him; but Maurice was gone before she could speak.
He had alluded to his father as involved in this mysterious affair, which the countess was now tremblingly desirous of solving. She sought Count Tristan. He was in the drawing-room, where Maurice had left him.
He sat beside the table,--his hands clinched, his head bowed, his face rigid in its expression of stony despair. He looked like a man who awaited the sentence of death.
The entrance of the countess scarcely roused him; nor did he hear, or rather heed, her first address. But when she placed the letter, received from Mr. Emerson, in his hand, and asked him if he knew what it meant, he sprang from his seat with a sudden burst of half-frantic joy.
"Who has done this?" he almost shrieked out.
"Who indeed?" returned his mother. "It has been suggested that it may be one of the evidences of Madeleine"s presumption. I can scarcely credit it. I can scarcely believe she would have the audacity to use my name, or occupy herself with the affairs of my family. Yet there is no one else"--
"It is like her! It is she! And may Heaven bless her for it!" cried the count, stirred by a sudden impulse of genuine grat.i.tude. "I must have confirmation! I must go to her at once!"
"Yes, go to her," replied his mother; "but let it be to inform her that we disdain her bounty; that we are astonished at her temerity in offering it; and that we hope never to hear from her again."
Count Tristan had left the room before his mother had finished speaking,--an act of disrespect of which he had never before been guilty. Exasperated by his manner even more than by that of Maurice, and dreading the result of their interview with Madeleine, the countess resolved herself to take a step which would make her niece conscious of her true position and of the light in which her presumption was viewed by her aunt. She determined to follow her son to Madeleine"s residence and to give her a lesson, in the presence of the count and Maurice, which would be the last he would ever need.
She had rung the bell to order a carriage, when Bertha entered. Learning her destination and its object, Bertha expressed her intention of accompanying her; and to this the countess could not object.
CHAPTER x.x.xII.
THE n.o.bLEMAN AND MANTUA-MAKER.
As we are already aware, Madeleine absolved herself from her usual duties for one day, and made Ruth her representative in the working department. In spite of Madeleine"s habitual self-control, she experienced some slight stirrings of irritation when Victorine, who deemed herself a privileged person, intruded upon her privacy.
"Pardon, mademoiselle," began the consequential forewoman. "I should not have ventured to disturb you, but there is a matter of importance to be settled. Madame Orlowski has come in person to order six ball-dresses; and she is not satisfied to decide upon the varieties of style that will most become her without consulting Mademoiselle Melanie herself. She insisted upon my bringing you this message."
"You have done wrong," answered Madeleine, somewhat less gently than was her wont.
"But in a case of such great importance"--began Victorine, flushing angrily.
Madeleine interrupted her with a slight touch of sarcasm in her tone: "It is, no doubt, inconceivable to you that my mind should be occupied with matters of even _greater_ importance than six ball dresses for one lady. Still, I must be tyrannical enough to request you to believe so, and not to allow me to be molested again. At all events," she added, her good-humor returning, "I venture to hope that I have not often subjected you to tyranny or caprice."
"No, no, certainly not," responded Victorine, a little mollified. "And since it was _so obvious_ that mademoiselle had _something upon her mind_, I have exerted myself as much as possible to prevent her being annoyed."
"Thank you; have the goodness to send Robert here."
This order was so pointedly a dismissal that the forewoman had no excuse to linger. She left the room thoroughly convinced that Mademoiselle Melanie was in love,--in love at last! The house would soon be gayer; Mademoiselle Melanie would leave the business more in her forewoman"s hands; the pleasant change so long desired was coming about; but she could not rest until she discovered the object of Mademoiselle Melanie"s attachment. One thing was certain: there was romance and mystery about the whole affair, and this lent zest to the Frenchwoman"s enjoyment.
Victorine not only summoned Robert, but stole after him on tiptoe to the door of Madeleine"s boudoir to hear what order was given. She distinctly caught these words:--
"You will admit no one but the Count de Gramont and M. Maurice de Gramont."
"The Count de Gramont and his son!" said Victorine to herself, as she hurried back to her satins and velvets; "Oh, this is decidedly getting interesting,--Mademoiselle Melanie aims high,--and, in spite of her prudence and propriety, she--well, well, we shall see! It"s always still water that runs deepest. The Count de Gramont and his son! Dear me, Mademoiselle Melanie would do better if she made me her _confidante_ at once."
Victorine, as she excused Mademoiselle Melanie to the Countess Orlowski, could not help dropping a hint that Mademoiselle Melanie might not in future be so wholly at the command of her customers,--she would receive more visitors of her own,--there were n.o.blemen from her own country who were to have free access.
When Madame Orlowski departed and the forewoman returned to the work-room, these inuendoes were repeated, and caused no little excitement among the group of young women, who revered Madeleine almost as though she were a patron saint, and they the most devout Catholics.
Ruth was highly indignant; but to have admonished the circulator of the intelligence, by even the faintest reproach, would have been to make matters worse, and to induce Mademoiselle Victorine to defend her rash a.s.sertions by still rasher ones.
Madeleine was not destined to enjoy the uninterrupted solitude she so much desired, for Robert had scarcely received his orders to admit no one, when he returned to the boudoir with a card in his hand. He presented it with hesitation in spite of the large bribe he had received.
"His lordship insisted upon my taking his card to Mademoiselle," he said apologetically.
"You should not have transgressed my orders," answered Madeleine, with some show of impatience. "I have given you the names of the only persons whom you were to admit to-day."
"I understand _that_, mademoiselle, but his lordship would not be denied, and said that he called upon a matter of the greatest importance, and that he knew Mademoiselle Melanie would see him."
Madeleine could not, after this, refuse to allow Lord Linden to enter; he no doubt brought her some information concerning the vote which she had charged him to obtain.
Lord Linden"s countenance, which usually wore a moody, discontented expression, was bright with expectation, as he entered Madeleine"s presence.
"You will pardon," he began, "my refusing to accept your servant"s denial; I based my hopes of forgiveness upon the good tidings which I bring. My advocacy, or rather my sister"s (but that is _entre nous_), has not been used in vain with Mr. Rutledge; he had definitely made up his mind to cast his vote differently, but his gallantry could not withstand a fair lady"s solicitation;--he is too thoroughly an American for _that_, and you may depend upon his vote."