In his present mood Leon would have avoided any visitor, and M. Georges
perhaps most of all; for to go over the estates, point out improvements
and changes, and listen to the cautious encouraging admiration of his
guest was almost unendurable. He had fallen upon him by chance, running
down the stairs from his mother's room just as a parley with M. Georges
was being held at the door, and the kindliness of his nature prevented
him from shaking him off, as he longed to do. But he hailed his sister
as a means of escape, and though it was contrary to all etiquette to
leave her to entertain him unassisted, this was an hour of anguish, in
which everything not immediately connected with the matter in hand sank
to insignificance. To Claire, too, under the exhaustion of her passion
and her fears, the sight of M. Georges's quiet, every-day respectful
face gave an immediate and pleasurable sense of repose; and she was not
sorry to second her brother when he explained that Mme. de Beaudrillart
was ailing, that he himself had a pressing engagement, and that
therefore he would ask his sister to go over the place, and show M.
Georges anything that he would like to see.
"Mademoiselle will indeed do me too much honour," murmured M. Georges,
blushing, and clasping his straw hat and bowing to the ground. "If it
is an inconvenience, permit me to choose some other time."
"No, no!" cried Leon, hastily but kindly, for his heart had always
reproached him with his treatment of his intendant, "you have had a long
walk, and must certainly see what you came to see. Claire, be sure to
show Monsieur Georges the new presses and the rick-yard."
He waved his hand and went away. M. Georges, who was gazing after him,
ventured to remark that monsieur le baron did not look so well as he had
hoped to find him.
"No," said Claire, abruptly; "he has his troubles. Who has not?"
"Ah, mademoiselle," said M. Georges, simply, "I hoped that the troubles
of Poissy were over."
Mlle. de Beaudrillart, too, was altered. To him, she had been less
dignified than to others, finding some sort of expansion in speaking to
a man who, with all his indecision, was intelligent and had ideas.
To-day she struck him as sharper and more angular; but he had always
nursed a respectful admiration for Mlle. de Beaudrillart, who had often
protected him from her mother's criticisms. In the course of their walk
round the estate he more than once suggested that he feared he was
taking her from other occupations, to which she merely shook her head.
Once he made an unfortunate allusion.
"Ah, here is the wall which has been strengthened, of which Monsieur
Bourget was telling me the other day. He is a marvellous man, Monsieur
Bourget!"
"Oh, do not talk of him!" said Claire, impatiently.
"No?" Little M. Georges glanced at her with nervousness. "Possibly
one may admit that occasionally he expresses himself with too much
force; but he is solid, and knows what he is speaking about." He added,
conscience demanding the tribute: "And he is devoted to his family."
They were advancing towards the chateau when he stopped, and said,
supplicatingly, "Would mademoiselle permit me to beg for one favour? I
have never had the honour of seeing Monsieur Raoul."
The homage in his tone soothed poor Claire's wounded spirit. She
exclaimed, impulsively:
"Ah, Monsieur Georges, you served my brother very faithfully! I wish he
still had such a good friend by his side!"
"You do me too much honour, mademoiselle," he said, much touched; "the
more so, because I have always been painfully aware of my own
deficiencies at a critical time, and I have seen for myself to-day that
Monsieur de Beaudrillart has done better without me. And I do not doubt
that he has an excellent adviser in his wife."
"In his wife? Oh no; she does not understand the exigencies of the
family, and how should she? She looks at everything from a totally
different standpoint to ours. But there she is, and Raoul with her."
They were standing on the small stone balcony which clung to the wall
outside Nathalie's room, feeding the pigeons in the court, and, at
Claire's call, came down the steps and across the sun-smitten court. M.
Georges, who had never seen her since her marriage, stared amazedly at
this pale, noble-looking woman, with dark circles round her eyes, and
the shadow of a great trouble resting upon her. He swept the ground
with his hat, as Raoul marched up, put his hand into that of the
visitor, and said, with sturdy precision: "How do you do, Monsieur
Georges?" Mme. Leon also put out her hand.
"Leon desired me to tell you," she said, turning to her sister-in-law,
"that Felicie has coffee ready, and he hopes that Monsieur Georges will
have that or anything else he may prefer."
"Of course," said Claire, shortly. "Are you coming?"
"No, Leon wants me. Good-bye, Monsieur Georges. If you see my father,
will you beg him to come and see us?" She moved away, and he stared,
open-mouthed, after her. There was a tender dignity in her face, a
composure in her manner, which, after all he had heard, left him amazed.
And, though his perceptions were slow, he read in her eyes that she was
a very sorrowful woman. What could threaten Poissy? What had humbled
Mlle. Claire? Even Felicie, whom they found with the coffee, had red
and swollen eyes, although she brightened and became enthusiastic in her
descriptions of the preparations for monseigneur, and of all that she
and the Abbe Nisard had to organise. She even ran to fetch some of her
cherished decorations, and when it appeared that a yard or two of
coloured calico was wanting, and M. Georges offered to procure it in
Tours, her little inexpressive face became radiant.
"Would you really be so kind? We should be most grateful, for I did not
know where to turn, and to have failed in the effect just on account of
two or three yards of stuff would have been too dreadful! Is it
possible that you have never heard monseigneur preach! How much you
would be edified! Instead of going to those terrible clubs where the
Church is shut out, and the most dreadful doctrines are taught, you must
come here and listen to him. You must indeed!"
M. Georges, whose talk at clubs had been always most innocent, was
highly gratified.
"Mademoiselle is only too good," he reiterated. "If I might be
permitted--"
"But certainly," cried Felicie, enchanted at a possible convert.
"Monseigneur arrives on Monday--the day after to-morrow--and the
function will be on Tuesday."
"Felicie," said her sister, warningly, "it is possible that we may not
be able to receive monseigneur."
Felicie nodded her head in full confidence.
"Ah, but I have spoken to Leon, and he wishes no change to be made; but
everything to go on as was settled."
"Perhaps--" hesitated M. Georges, "if Madame Leon wishes to see her
father, Monsieur Bourget and I might come out together?"
"Monsieur Bourget!" Felicie was aghast. "Oh, for pity's sake, do not
bring him here! I am convinced that he is both a republican and a
freethinker. He is really too dreadful! I believe he would be capable
of shocking the bishop, and saying something insulting to the Church.
Pray, pray, Monsieur Georges!"
"For all our sakes, I think you may forget that message," said Claire,
significantly.
But M. Georges could not so soon put aside his recollection of Mme.
Leon's earnest face and the sad sorrow in her eyes. After he got back
to Tours, he was going in pursuit of M. Bourget, when he met him in the
street, and uttered some little jest about the reversal of their
positions.
"It is I who have now returned from Poissy," he said, smiling.
"Well?"
The word shot out so sharply that it startled the hearer.
"The visit was exceedingly gratifying to me," he returned, "although
Monsieur de Beaudrillart was unfortunately a good deal occupied. But
his sister kindly showed me the improvements, and it afforded me immense
pleasure to see your grandson--and Madame Leon," he added.