"Do not give way to your despair," said M.Moriaz; "take courage, follow the example I set you, imitate my resignation.But tell me, how do you think Antoinette will take the matter?""It will be a terrible blow to her," replied Mlle.Moiseney; "she loves him so much!""How do you know, since she has not judged it best to tell you?""I know from circumstances.Poor dear Antoinette! The greatest consideration must be used in announcing to her this intelligence; and I alone, I believe--""I agree with you," M.Moriaz hastened to interpose; "you alone are capable of operating on our patient without causing her suffering.You are so skilful! your hand is so light! Make the best of the situation, mademoiselle--I leave it to you."With these words he took up his hat and cane, and hastened to get away, rather anxious about what had passed, yet feeling too happy, too much rejoiced, to be a good consoler.
It was not long before Mlle.Moriaz returned from her walk.She came humming a ballad; she was joyous, her complexion brilliant, her eyes sparkling, and she carried an armful of heather and ferns.Mlle.
Moiseney went to meet her, her face mournful, her head bent down, her glance tearful.
"Why! what is the matter, my dear Joan?" she said; "you look like a funeral.""Alas!" sighed Mlle.Moiseney, "I have sad news to communicate.""What! have they written to you from Cormeilles that your parrot is dead?""Ah, my dear child, be reasonable, be strong; summon up all your courage.""For the love of God, what is the matter?""Ah! would that I could spare you this trouble! Your father has just received a letter from Mme.de Lorcy."Antoinette grew more attentive, her breath came quickly."And what was there in this letter that is so terrible, so heart-rending?" she asked, forcing a smile.
"Fortunately, I am here," replied Mlle.Moiseney."You know that your joys and your sorrows are mine.All the consolation that I can lavish upon you, the tenderest sympathy--""My dear Joan, in the name of Heaven, explain first, and then console!""You told me nothing, my child--I have a right to complain; but I have divined all.I can read your heart.I am sure that you love him.""Of whom do you speak?" replied Antoinette, whose colour rose in her cheeks.
"Of a most charming man, who, either through inconceivable stupidity, or through most criminal calculation, neglected to tell us that he was married."And with these words, Mlle.Moiseney extended both arms, that she might receive into them Mlle.Moriaz, whom she believed to be already swooning.
Mlle.Moriaz did not swoon.She flushed crimson, then grew very pale;but she remained standing, her head proudly erect, and she said, in a tone of well-feigned indifference: "Oh! M.Larinski is married? My very sincere compliments to the Countess Larinski."After which she busied herself arranging in a vase the heather and ferns she had brought back with her.Mlle.Moiseney stood lost in astonishment at her calm; she gazed in a stupor at her, and suddenly exclaimed: "Thank God! you do not love him! Your father has mistaken, he often mistakes; he sometimes gets the strangest ideas into his mind; he was persuaded that this would be a death-blow to you; he does not know you at all.Ah! unquestionably, M.Larinski is far from being disagreeable; I do not dispute his having some merit; but I always thought that there was something suspicious about him; his manners were a little equivocal; I suspected him of hiding something from us.
As it appears, he has made a /mesalliance/ that he did not care to acknowledge.It is deplorable that a man of such excellent address should have low tastes and doubtful morality.His duty was to tell us all; he was neither loyal nor delicate.""You dream, my dear," replied Antoinette."What law, human or divine, obliged M.Larinski to tell us everything? Did you expect him to render an account of his deeds and misdeeds to us as to a tribunal of penance?"In speaking thus, she took off her hat and mantilla, seated herself in the embrasure of a window, and opened a book which she began to read with great attention.
"God be praised! she does not love him," thought Mlle.Moiseney, who was not aware that Mlle.Moriaz was turning two or three pages at a time with perceiving it.
Deeply absorbed as she was, she still recognised her father's step as he came upstairs to his room.She hurried out to meet him.He noticed with pleasure that her face was not wan, nor were her eyes red.He was less satisfied when she said, in a calm, clear voice:
"Please show me the letter that you have received from Mme.de Lorcy.""What is the use?" he rejoined."I know it by heart.I am ready to recite it to you.""Is it a letter that cannot be shown?"
"No, indeed; but as I tell you that I am ready to give you an account of it--""I would prefer to read it with my own eyes.""After all, you have a right.There! take it.But I beg of you do not be offended by unfortunate expressions.""Mme.de Lorcy always knows how to choose the proper word to express her thought," she responded.
When she had run her eye rapidly over Mme.de Lorcy's eight closely written pages, she looked at her father and smiled.
"You must own that you found a very useful and a very zealous ally in Mme.de Lorcy; do her this justice, she has worked hard, and you owe her many thanks for having busied herself so actively in ridding you of 'this worthy man, this good man, this delightful man'; those are her own words, if you remember."M.Moriaz exclaimed: "I hope you do not imagine that it was a matter arranged between us.Do you really suspect me of having some dark plot with Mme.de Lorcy! Do you believe me capable of being implicated in an act of perfidy?""God forbid! I only accuse you of being too joyous, and of not knowing how to conceal it.""Is that a crime?"
"Perhaps it is an indiscretion."
