"I have no alternative."
"Then I am more thankful than ever," she replied, tartly, "that when my aunt wished to make a match between us, I never thought of accepting you! I never could have endured such a patient, contented, stoical suitor, who would be perfectly happy in spite of his separation from me."
Maurice laughed at this sally, but Gaston remarked, seriously,--
"Yet you demand great sacrifices from one who is not as patient and well-disciplined. You make your wedding-day dependent upon Mademoiselle Madeleine"s, when Mademoiselle Madeleine declares that she does not intend to name one."
"We are an obstinate family, you see!" retorted Bertha, her good-humor returning.
"Will not your father miss you?" suggested the ever thoughtful Madeleine to Maurice. "You have been absent very long; that talkative nurse may not be able to restrain herself, and your presence may be needful to preserve harmony."
Maurice admitted that he ought to return; but, after bidding Madeleine adieu, he could not persuade himself to go back to the hotel until he had seen those to whom he owed his present happiness.
"Ronald!" he exclaimed, as he entered Mrs. Walton"s drawing-room; "long ago I became largely your debtor, but now you have placed me under an obligation which cannot be estimated. Oh, if I only had your energy and prompt.i.tude of action, I might some day"--
Ronald interrupted him: "Then my mother was right, and I did not give you bad advice in spite of my Quixotism?"
Maurice related what had happened to sympathetic listeners.
Evening was approaching; his absence from his father had been far more protracted than usual, and before he had said half that he desired to say, or listened to half that he wished to hear, he was compelled to leave.
When the hand of Maurice was on the door of his grandmother"s _salon_, he could distinguish the sound of angry voices within,--his grandmother"s sonorous tones and the sharper voice of Mrs. Gratacap. As he entered, the latter was saying,--
"It"s a sin and a shame, I tell you! And I"ll not have the poor dear made miserable in that way, while he is under my charge. I"m not going to submit to it; and you know you can"t frighten me with all your high ways."
Mrs. Gratacap was standing beside the count, as though to protect him; Madame de Gramont was seated directly before him, and looking highly incensed. Count Tristan himself appeared to be in great tribulation, and grasped the hand of his nurse with a dependent air. As soon as he caught sight of Maurice, he cried out,--
"I"m not going! I"m not going, I say! Maurice, come, come and tell her!"
"What has happened?" inquired Maurice, with deep concern.
The countess attempted to speak, but Mrs. Gratacap was too quick for her.
"Here"s the madame has been talking to the poor dear until she has driven him half wild. I never saw anything like it in my born days; she wont give him one moment"s peace! He was doing well enough until she began _jawing_ him."
It is to be hoped that the countess did not understand the meaning of this last, not very cla.s.sical expression.
"Will you be silent, woman?" said she, wrathfully.
Mrs. Gratacap was about to answer; but Maurice silenced her by a reproving look, and then asked again,--
"What has happened? Why does my father seem so much distressed?"
"I have been preparing his mind"--began the countess.
Mrs. Gratacap broke in, "Upsetting his mind, you mean."
Before Madame de Gramont could answer, Maurice said to the nurse, in a persuasive tone, "Pray leave us, for a little while, Mrs. Gratacap."
"I wouldn"t contrary you for the world!" returned the nurse. "Only when _she"s_ done, just you come to _me_ and I"ll give you the rights of the case."
Mrs. Gratacap departed, and the countess continued,--
"I have been explaining to your father that we are shortly to leave this execrable country and return to Brittany, and that he has great cause for congratulation; but he did not seem to comprehend me clearly, and that woman, who is always intruding her opinions, chose to imagine that he was groaning and crying out on account of what I said. The liberties she takes become more intolerable every day; she is enough to drive your father distracted."
"What does she mean?" asked Count Tristan, piteously. "Where do they want to take me? I"m not going."
"My son," replied the countess, "I have informed you; but that insolent woman prevented your understanding; we are to return very soon to Brittany, to the Chateau de Gramont; I expect you to rejoice at this pleasing intelligence."
"No--no, I cannot go! I cannot leave"--
He stopped as though his mother"s flashing eyes checked the words ready to burst from his lips.
"You will not have to leave _Maurice_," she said, coldly; "he is to accompany us."
"But Madeleine! Madeleine!" he sobbed forth as if unable to restrain himself.
The countess was on the point of replying angrily, when Maurice interposed.
"I beg you, madame, not to excite my father by further discussion. Come, my dear father, you are tired; it is getting late; I know it will do you good to lie down."
And he conducted the unresisting invalid to his own chamber, leaving the countess swelling with rage, yet glorying in the certainty that she would carry out her plans, in spite of every opposition.
CHAPTER LIV.
AN UNEXPECTED VISIT.
Another week pa.s.sed on. The day preceding that on which the countess and her party were to set out on their journey had arrived. All the necessary preparations were progressing duly.
Maurice, from the hour that he had learned Madeleine"s secret, had lived in such a dream of absolute happiness that he felt as though he could ask for nothing more,--as though the cup presented to his lips was too full of joy for the one, ungrateful drop of an unfulfilled desire to find room. He comprehended Madeleine"s character too thoroughly,--respected all her instincts and principles of action too entirely, again to urge his suit, or seek to obtain her promise that she would one day be his; she _was his_ in spirit,--he could openly recognize her as his,--that sufficed! and he believed it would still suffice (if her sense of duty remained unaltered) through his whole earthly existence; for all his days would be brightened by her love, and the privilege of loving her.
Bertha, after her first, petulant outbreak, had also ceased to press Madeleine on the subject of her possible marriage, and with meek demureness reconciled herself to the uncertainty of the future, and the certainty of tormenting her lover in the present.
M. de Bois"s devotion to Madeleine sealed his lips. Madeleine had formed a resolution which she declared unalterable. Bertha had announced a determination dependent upon Madeleine"s, and the suitors of the two cousins had only to submit and hope.
The labor of packing Madame de Gramont"s wardrobe, as well as that of Bertha, devolved upon Adolphine; she had not quite filled the trunks of her young mistress when she was summoned by the countess. This was on the morning of the day preceding the one appointed for their departure.
Adolphine was heedless and forgetful to a tantalizing degree. The countess deemed herself compelled to superintend her movements; that is to sit in an arm-chair and look on; the lofty lady would not have deigned to a.s.sist by touching an article, though she now and then issued an order or indulged in a rebuke, and by her presence greatly r.e.t.a.r.ded Adolphine"s operations.
Count Tristan had driven out every day. His mother and Maurice always accompanied him. This morning, when Maurice went to announce to his grandmother that the carriage was at the door, he found her watching Adolphine, who was on her knees before an open trunk.
"It will be impossible for me to accompany you to-day," said the countess. "I will speak to your father; it will be his last drive, and he must excuse me."
She rose and pa.s.sed into the drawing-room where Count Tristan was waiting.