he said, apologetically. "I will return for her at once."
"Yes, go, go!" was all the countess replied.
CHAPTER XLI.
UNBOWED.
Maurice did not suspect how Bertha was employed at that moment, and how much his heart would have had cause to rejoice if she proved successful in her undertaking. She was so happy herself in her betrothed that she was possessed by a strong desire to make some effort by which a like felicity might be secured to Madeleine. It had been one of the day-dreams of Bertha"s girlhood that she and Madeleine should receive their wedding rings in the same hour. Gaston was entreating his _fiancee_ to name a period, even though it might be some months hence (only a few days before, we think, he declared himself content with knowing that he might hope for this crowning joy _at the most distant date_), when he might call her his.
Bertha replied, tantalizingly, "The time depends upon Madeleine, not upon me. She must name the day."
"May she, indeed?" asked M. de Bois, joyfully, for he was convinced that he could influence Madeleine"s decision.
"Yes, she will name it in naming the day for her own wedding. I have always intended that we should be married together."
M. de Bois"s countenance fell.
"But Mademoiselle Madeleine is not even engaged."
"Is she not? Are you sure?"
"Quite sure," returned Gaston.
"But she loves some one,--does she not?" questioned Bertha, artfully.
"She has said she did," was the cautious response.
"Then, if she loves some one, we have only to find out who it is and bring them together, and get them to understand each other, and help them to fix the day. Would not that be charming?"
"Yes, very," replied M. de Bois; but he sighed as he spoke, remembering how improbable it was that anything of the kind would take place.
Bertha had a suspicion that he must have some knowledge of Madeleine"s mysterious lover, and her idea of the perfect confidence that ought to exist not only between husband and wife, but a lover and his betrothed bride, would of itself have been sufficient inducement to make her endeavor to discover the secret.
"You have been near Madeleine all these years that she has been lost to us."
"Yes, happily for _me_; and if she can only say happily for _her_, I should be proud as well as thankful."
"She does,--I am sure she does say so," responded Bertha, affectionately. "What could she have done without you? It was because you were so much to Madeleine that you became so much to--to--that is so--so--I mean"--
Many a sentence of Gaston"s had she finished when his words became entangled through confusion; it was but a fair return for him to conclude this one of hers, though perhaps he did so in a manner that added to her embarra.s.sment.
Bertha recovered herself, and shook back her curls as though they were in fault. Then looking up archly in Gaston"s face she said,--
"And if I wanted an excuse for what I have done, could I have found a better?"
"Not easily," returned the delighted lover, "and I excuse you for a piece of bad taste which has rendered me the happiest and proudest of men."
"But we were talking of Madeleine," persisted Bertha; "you know every one whom she knows,--do you not?"
"What, all her patrons? Heaven forbid!"
"No,--no,--you are very tantalizing,--I did not mean those. I mean the persons who visit her: you know them all?"
"Most of them, I believe."
"Then you must be acquainted with this invisible lover of hers!"
Now was M. de Bois puzzled. Bertha saw the advantage she had gained.
"You must have seen him,--you must know all about him,--and _I must know_ also. Not to satisfy my curiosity,--do not imagine _that!_--I am not in the least curious; but because I want to a.s.sist Madeleine. I want to judge whether nothing can be done to bring about her union with him."
"Nothing,--I fear, nothing," replied M. de Bois, sadly.
"Then you _do_ know who he is? There, you have admitted that you did!"
"Are you laying snares for me, then, sweet Bertha? But I shall not let you exult over my falling into one of these well-laid traps. I only said I feared nothing could be done to bring about Mademoiselle Madeleine"s union with any one."
"But you know whom she loves?"
"She has never told me."
"But you at least _suspect_?"
"What right have I to _suspect_? And you know I am _dull_,--I did not even suspect _whom_ her cousin Bertha loved."
Bertha hung her head for a moment, but quickly returned to the attack.
"Tell me, at least, whom you think Madeleine _prefers_."
"I have no right to do that,--it would not be fair to Mademoiselle Madeleine,--she would never forgive me!"
"Ah, then you and I may have secrets from each other? That is the inference I shall draw if you refuse," said Bertha, provokingly.
This was a most distasteful suggestion to Gaston, who had a masculine touch of jealousy in his composition,--just enough to make him desire to monopolize Bertha _entirely_. He was not willing that she should have a thought which she could not communicate to him; to hide anything from him was to rob him! Was his an exceptional case, or are men in general as _exigeant_?
"Well, you do not answer?" Bertha observed.
"I should be grieved if I had not your _whole_ confidence, now and ever," he replied.
"So shall I be if I have not yours. Should one exact more than one is willing to give? Tell me who it is that you suspect Madeleine of loving.
Tell me at once!"
"I cannot,--I have no right!"
"I think you have no right to withhold the knowledge from me."