"Monsieur, will you walk with me in the
park? I am faint."
"Are you ill, countess?" asked Madame, coming up and placing her
hand under the soft round chin of the other and striving to read
her eyes.
"Not so ill, Madame, that a breath of fresh air will not revive
me." When they had gained the park, the countess said to Maurice:
"Monsieur, I have brought you here to tell you something. I
fear that your friend is lost, for you can do nothing."
"Not even if I break my word?" he asked.
"It would do no good."
"Why?"
"It is too late," lowly. "I have been Madame's understudy too
long not to read. Forgive me. I was to keep you apart; I have
done so. The evil can not now be repaired. Your hope is that
Madame has not fully considered his pride."
"Has she any regard for him?"
"Sentiment?--love?" She uttered a short, incredulous laugh.
"Madame has brain, not heart. Could a woman with a heart plan as
she plans?"
"Well, let us not talk of plots and plans; let us talk of--"
"Monsieur, do not be unkind. I have asked your forgiveness. Let
us not talk; let us be silent and listen to the night;" and she
leaned over the terrace balustrade.
Pages:
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218