"You need not cry about it," retorted the countess, angrily. "How often have I tried to impress upon you that this habit of evincing emotion is, in the highest degree, plebeian! Tears are very well for a milk-maid, but exceedingly unbecoming a lady. They are an unmistakable sign of vulgar breeding. I cannot endure to see a niece of mine with so little self-control."
Bertha removed her handkerchief and tried to force back her tears, as she said,--
"Maurice begs to speak to you for a moment."
"Very good. Can he not come to me?"
"He entreats that you will go into the drawing-room."
"Do you mean to intimate," asked the countess, sternly, "that my grandson ventures to _summon me to his presence_, instead of coming to mine? What indignity am I to expect next? Since he has forgotten his duty and the deference due to me, go and remind him."
"He has something very serious to tell you," faltered Bertha; "he wants you to hear it there,--it is so sad."
Bertha, in spite of her aunt"s contemptuous glances, could not help burying her face in her handkerchief again.
"What absurdity!" sneered the countess; but she began to experience a vague sensation of uneasiness.
"Come! come! do come!" pleaded Bertha.
"Since it seems the only way to put an end to this hysterical exhibition of yours, Bertha, I will go and reprove Maurice for his lack of respect."
But the countess did not literally carry her threat into execution; for, noticing the absence of Count Tristan, she said hurriedly,--
"Where is your father?"
"Pray sit down one moment, my dear grandmother"--
She interrupted him by asking again, more anxiously,--
"Where is your father?"
"I will explain, but"--
"Why do you not answer my question?" she cried with increased violence.
"Where is your father?"
Could Maurice answer "At Madeleine"s?" He still hesitated, and the countess, with more rapid steps than she was wont to use, hastened to Count Tristan"s bedroom.
Mrs. Gratacap greeted her with "Oh, poor dear, don"t take on about it!
We couldn"t but expect that it would come soon, and"--
The countess did not wait to hear the close of her sentence, but with a cold horror creeping through her veins, hurried back to Maurice, and once more asked, imperiously,--
"Maurice, where is your father? I command you to answer at once! I will hear nothing but the answer to that question."
Driven to extremity, Maurice replied, "My father is at Madeleine"s!"
"Miserable boy! How did you dare to set my wishes at defiance? You shall repent this,--be sure you shall! How had you the audacity to fly in the face of my command?"
"I heard no commands on the subject," returned Maurice; "and if I had done so, my father"s wishes would still have held the first place. As soon as we left the house he insisted upon going to Madeleine"s; he would take no refusal; his affection for her is so strong that"--
"How dare you talk to me of his affection for that artful, designing girl, who is a disgrace to us all,--whose low machinations have placed her beneath my contempt? Henceforth, thank Heaven! we shall be out of the reach of her vile manoeuvres."
This was beyond endurance. Maurice forgot everything but the insulting epithets applied to Madeleine, and said, with a dignity as imposing as Madame de Gramont"s own had ever been,--
"My grandmother, never shall such language be applied to Madeleine again in my presence, by you or any one! Madeleine is not merely my cousin, she is the woman I love best and honor most in the world;--the woman who, if I ever marry, will become my wife."
"Never! never!" cried the countess, fiercely. "That shall never be, come what may!"
Maurice, recovering himself somewhat, went on,--
"It is upon a far sadder subject that I wish to speak to you,--I meant to break the news gently,--I hoped to spare you a severe shock, but you force me to come to the point at once. My dear father has had another seizure of the same nature as the two former."
"Parricide!" shrieked the countess, "you have done this! You have killed your father! The agitation occasioned by your taking him to that house and letting him see that unhappy girl has caused this attack; if he should die you will be his murderer!"
What reply could Maurice make which would not enrage her more? The countess went on, furiously,--
"Go,--bring him back to me quickly! He shall not remain there! By all that is holy, he shall not."
"I come to ask you to go to him since he cannot come to you," said Maurice, with as much mildness as he could throw into his tone.
"Yes, I will go, I will go!" replied his grandmother. "I cannot trust you; I will go myself, and see him brought here."
She retired to her own chamber to make ready, and Bertha quickly followed her example.
Meantime Madeleine with Mrs. Lawkins, watched beside the count. His attack was briefer than the former ones. When it was over, he fell into a deep and placid slumber. During that sleep his face changed! Those who have watched the dying and recognized the indescribable expression which marks the countenance when it is "death-struck" will understand what alteration is meant. He waked slowly and gently,--first stirring his hands as though clutching at something impalpable, then gradually opening his eyes. They looked large and gla.s.sy, but as they fixed themselves upon Madeleine"s face, bespoke full consciousness.
"Madeleine!" he murmured feebly; but his voice was distinct, and pathetically tender. "I am with you again, Madeleine,--that is great happiness,--great comfort, I am going soon, Madeleine;--do you not know it?"
"Oh! I fear so!" answered Madeleine, weeping; "but you do not suffer?
You are calm?"
"Very calm,--very happy with my good angel near me. Madeleine, you have much to pardon; but you will pardon,--all,--all!
"I do, I do. If there be anything to pardon, I do, from my soul, a thousand times over."
"You have made me believe in G.o.d and his saints, Madeleine, and I bless you."
Madeleine was holding both of his cold hands in hers, and had bowed her head, that his icy lips might touch her forehead; but she rose up suddenly, for she heard the wheels of a carriage stop, and the street door open; she deemed it well to prepare the count.
"I think your mother and Maurice have arrived."
A cloud pa.s.sed over the face of the dying man, but did not rest there.
He was beyond fear! His haughty mother could no longer inspire awe!
A moment after, Maurice opened the door and the countess entered the room. Approaching the bed, as though unconscious of Madeleine"s presence, she exclaimed,--
"My son, my son, what brought you here? How could you have paid so little respect to my wishes? I will not reproach you" (this was much for her to say), "only make the effort to let yourself be removed at once."