Nobody's Girl Part 51

Perrine closed the door softly.

CHAPTER XXVIII

AN UNRESPECTED FUNERAL

There was considerable bustle and excitement at the chateau all that evening. First M. and Mme. Stanislas Paindavoine, who had received a telegram from Theodore, arrived. Then M. and Mme. Bretoneux, sent for by Casimir, came. After that came Mme. Bretoneux's two daughters, their husbands and children. No one wished to miss the funeral service for poor dear Edmond.

Besides, this was the decisive moment for clever manoeuvring. What a disaster if this big industry should fall into the hands of one so incapable as Theodore! What a misfortune if Casimir took charge! Neither side thought that a partners.h.i.+p could be possible, and the two cousins share alike. Each wanted all for himself.

Both Mme. Bretoneux and Mme. Paindavoine had ignored Perrine since their arrival. They had given her to understand that they did not require her services any longer.

She sat in her room hoping that M. Vulfran would send for her so that she could help him into the church, as she had done every Sunday since William had gone. But she waited in vain. When the bells, which had been tolling since the evening before, announced ma.s.s, she saw him get up into his carriage leaning on his brother's arm, while his sister and sister-in-law, with the members of their families, took their places in other carriages.

She had no time to lose, for she had to walk. She hurried off.

After she had left the house over which Death had spread its shroud, she was surprised to notice as she hastened through the village that the taverns had taken on their Sunday air. The men drank and laughed and the women chatted at their doors, while the children played in the street.

Perrine wondered if none of them were going to attend the service.

Upon entering the church, where she had been afraid that she would not find room, she saw that it was almost empty. The bereaved family sat in the choir; here and there was some village authority, a tradesman and the heads of the factories. Very few of the working men and women were present; they had not thought to come and join their prayers to those of their employer.

Perrine took a seat beside Rosalie and her grandmother, who was in deep mourning.

"Alas! my poor little Edmond," murmured the old nurse, wiping her eyes.

"What did M. Vulfran say?"

But Perrine was too overcome to reply. The services commenced.

As she left the church, Mlle. Belhomme came up to her, and, like Francoise, wanted to question her about M. Vulfran. Perrine told her that he had not spoken to her since the evening before.

"As I saw him kneeling there so crushed and broken for the first time, I was pleased that he was blind," said the governess sadly.

"Why?" asked Perrine.

"Because he could not see how few people came to the church. What indifference his men have shown! If he could have seen that empty church it would have added to his grief."

"I think he must have known how few there were there," said Perrine.

"His ears take the place of his eyes, and that empty silence could not deceive him."

"Poor man," murmured Mlle. Belhomme; "and yet...."

She paused. Then, as she was not in the habit of holding anything back, she went on: "And yet it will be a great lesson to him. You know, my child, you cannot expect others to share your sorrows if you are not willing to share theirs.

"M. Vulfran gives his men what he considers their due," she continued, in a lower voice. "He is just, but that is all. He has never been a father to his men. He is all for business, business only. What a lot of good he could have done, however, not only here, but everywhere, if he had wished, by setting an example. Had he been more to his men you may be sure that the church would not have been as empty as it was today."

Perhaps that was true, but how it hurt Perrine to hear this from the lips of her governess, of whom she was so fond. If anyone else had said so she might not have felt it so deeply. Yes, undoubtedly it was too true.

They had been walking as they talked, and had now reached the schools where Mlle. Belhomme lived.

"Come in and we'll have luncheon together," she said. She was thinking that her pupil would not be allowed to take her accustomed place at the family table.

"Oh, thank you," said Perrine; "but M. Vulfran might need me."

"Well, in that case you had better go back," said Mlle. Belhomme.

When she reached the chateau she saw that M. Vulfran had no need of her, that he was not even thinking of her. Bastien, whom she met on the stairs, told her that when he came back from the church he had gone to his own room and locked himself in, forbidding anyone to enter.

"He won't even sit down on a day like this with his family," said Bastien, "and they are all going after luncheon. I don't think he even wants to say goodbye to them. Lord help us! What will become of us? Oh, poor master!"

"What can I do?" asked Perrine.

"You can do a great deal. The master believes in you, and he's mighty fond of you."

"Mighty fond of me?" echoed Perrine.

"Yes, and it's I as says it," said the butler. "He likes you a whole lot."

As Bastien had said, all the family left after luncheon. Perrine stayed in her room, but M. Vulfran did not send for her. Just before she went to bed, Bastien came to tell her that his master wished her to accompany him the next morning at the usual hour.

"He wants to get back to work, but will he be able?" said the old butler. "It will be better for him if he can. Work means life for him."

The next day at the usual hour Perrine was waiting for M. Vulfran. With bent back he came forward, guided by Bastien. The butler made a sign to her that his master had pa.s.sed a bad night.

"Is Aurelie there?" asked the blind man in a changed voice, a voice low and weak, like that of a sick child.

Perrine went forward quickly.

"I am here, M. Vulfran," she said.

"Let us get into the carriage, Aurelie," he said.

As soon as he had taken his place beside Perrine his head drooped on his chest. He said not a word.

At the foot of the office steps Talouel was there ready to receive him and help him to alight.

"I suppose you felt strong enough to come?" he said, in a sympathetic voice which contrasted with the flash in his eyes.

"I did not feel at all strong, but I came because I thought that I ought to come," said his employer.

"That is what I meant ... I...."

M. Vulfran stopped him and told Perrine to guide him to his office.

The mail, which had acc.u.mulated in two days, was read, but the blind man made no comments on the correspondence. It was as though he were deaf or asleep. The heads of the factory then came in to discuss an important question that had to be settled that day. When the immediate business was settled Perrine was left alone with the blind man. He was silent.