Fairy Fingers Part 9

Gaston looked towards the open door and said, "It is the count."

At the same moment he withdrew to the window.

Madeleine, who had risen, resumed her seat, and, as she plied her needle, half buried her agitated face in the white drapery which lay in her lap.

The count entered with downcast eyes, and flung himself into a chair.

He had not perceived that any one was present. Madeleine found it difficult to command her voice, yet could not allow him to remain unaware that he was not alone.

After a brief interval, she said, in a tolerably quiet tone, "I am afraid you have not chosen a very comfortable seat. I told Baptiste to remove that chair, for its legs are giving signs of the infirmities of age."

At the sound of her voice the count glanced at her over his shoulder, and said, brusquely, "What are you doing there?"

"Playing Penelope, as usual."

The count returned harshly, "Always absorbed in some feminine frippery, just as if"--

"Just as if I were a woman!" answered Madeleine, forcing a laugh.

"A woman in your position should find some less frivolous employment."

Madeleine replied, in a tone of badinage that would have disarmed most men, "How cruelly my cousin pretends to treat me! He actually makes believe to scold me when I am occupied with the interests of his family,--when I am literally _shedding my blood_ in their behalf!" she added playfully, holding towards him the white dress upon which a slight red stain was visible; for the needle grasped by her trembling hands had p.r.i.c.ked her.

"Good heavens, Madeleine! when will you lay aside those intolerable airs and graces which you invariably a.s.sume, and which would be very charming in a young girl of sixteen,--a girl like Bertha; but, in a woman who has arrived at your years,--a woman of twenty-one,--become ridiculous affectation?"

M. de Bois, enraged at the injustice of this rebuke, could control himself no longer, and came forward with a lowering visage. The count turned towards him in surprise.

"Ah, M. de Bois, I was not aware of your presence. I must have interrupted a _tete-a-tete_. You perceive, I am, now and then, obliged to chide."

Gaston answered only by a bow, though his features wore an expression which the count would not have been well pleased to see if he had interpreted aright.

"But," continued the latter, "we are most apt to chide those whom we love best, as you are aware."

"I am a--a--ware," began M. de Bois, trying to calm his indignation, yet experiencing a strong desire to adopt his new method of speaking fluently by using strong interjections.

The count changed the subject by asking, "Did you deliver the letters, of which you had the goodness to take charge, to the Count Damoreau, Madame de Nervac, and Monsieur de Bonneville?"

"Our relatives!" exclaimed Madeleine, unreflectingly. "Have you forgotten that you will see them to-night at the ball? But I beg pardon; perhaps you had something very important to write about."

"It _was_ very important," answered the count, dryly.

"I im--im--imagined so," remarked M. de Bois, "by the sensation the letters created. Madame de Nervac turned pale, and the Count Damoreau turned red, and M. de Bonneville gnawed his nails as he was reading."

"Had they the kindness to send answers by you, as I requested?"

"Yes, the object of my early vi--vi--visit was to deliver them. I heard Mademoiselle Madeleine singing as I pa.s.sed the _chalet_, and paused to pay my respects."

He drew forth three letters, and placed them in the count's hand.

The latter seized them eagerly, and seemed inclined to break the seals at once, but changed his mind, and putting them in his pocket, said, "Shall I have the pleasure of your company to the chateau?"

M. de Bois could not well refuse.

He left the _chalet_ with the count, but, after taking a few steps, apologized for being obliged to return in search of a glove he had dropped. He went back alone. Madeleine was occupied with her needle as when he left her. There were no traces of tears upon her cheeks; there was no flush, no expression of anger or mortification upon her serene countenance.

M. de Bois regarded her a moment in surprise, for he had expected to find her weeping, or looking vexed, or, at all events, in a state of excitement.

"Is the count often in such an amiable temper?" he asked.

"No; pray, do not imagine _that_; he is evidently troubled to-day. You saw how preoccupied he was. Something has gone wrong, something annoys him. He did not mean to be harsh."

"And _you_ can excuse him? Well, then _I_ cannot! I felt as though I must speak when he rated you so unreasonably. And, if I had spoken, I should certainly have had my tongue loosened by swearing; perhaps I shall yet"--

"Pray, M. de Bois," urged Madeleine, "do not try to defend me, or allude to what you unfortunately heard. It will only make my position more trying."

"So I fear; but I have something to say to you. _You_ have given _me_ good counsels; you must listen to some I have to give you in return,--but not now. You are going to the ball to-night?"

"Yes, certainly."

"Perhaps I may find an opportunity of talking to you there."

Saying these words, he picked up the glove, and hastened to rejoin the count, who was too much absorbed in his own thoughts to remark the length of his friend's absence.

CHAPTER VI.

UNMASKING.

Madeleine, left alone in the old _chalet_, remained for some time absorbed in her work, which progressed rapidly. The ivy leaves were dexterously polished, and a graceful garland laid above every tuck of the transparent white dress. The last leafy band was nearly completed, when the door again creaked upon its rusty hinges, and the young girl, looking up, beheld Maurice.

"Is not Bertha here?" he asked, in a tone that sounded very unlike his usual cheerful voice. "I came to seek her, and felt sure she must be with you."

"I have not seen her since early morning," answered Madeleine. "She promised to bring me this basket full of ivy leaves, but sent Baptiste instead."

"I looked for her in the library, the _boudoir_, the drawing-room, and the garden, before I came here," Maurice continued, in the same grave tone. "She has disappeared just at the moment when I have made up my mind to have an understanding without further delay."

Madeleine's speaking countenance betrayed her surprise, for it seemed strange that Maurice should desire an especial interview with his cousin, whom he saw at all hours; and stranger still that he appeared to be so much disturbed.

"How serious you look, Maurice! Are you troubled? Has anything occurred to cause you unhappiness?"

"I can have no disguises from you, Madeleine. I am thoroughly sick at heart. In the first place, my father and my grandmother have violently opposed my determination to embark in an honorable and useful career of life;--_that_ threw a cloud over me almost from the hour I entered the chateau. I tried to forget my disappointment for the moment, that no shadow might fall upon your birthday happiness; besides, I clung to the hope that I might yet convince them of the propriety, the policy, the actual necessity of the step I propose to take. My father, yesterday, stunned me with a piece of intelligence which renders me wretched, yet forces me to act. I have given him my promise; there is no retreat. I must bring this matter to a climax, be the sequence what it may; and yet I dread to make the very first movement."

"I am too dull to read the riddle of the sphinx, and your words are as enigmatical. I have not begun to find their clew," replied Madeleine, pausing in the garland she was forming, and letting the ivy drop unnoticed around her.

The first impulse of Maurice was to gather the fallen leaves; the second prompted him gently to force the dress, she was so tastefully adorning, out of her hands, and toss it upon the table.