But, this confidence which Henrietta expressed was only apparent. In her
heart she suffered from the most terrible presentiments. A secret voice
told her that this scene, no doubt well prepared and carefully brought
about, was but another step leading to the final catastrophe.
Days, however, passed by, and nothing unusual happened. It looked as if
they had resolved, after that crisis, to give her a short respite, and
time to recover.
Even the watch kept upon her movements was not quite as strict as
heretofore. The countess kept out of her way. Mrs. Brian had given up
the desire to frighten her by her incessant remarks. Her father she saw
but rarely; for he was entirely absorbed in the preparations for the
Pennsylvania Petroleum Society. Thus, a week later, all seemed to have
entirely forgotten the terrible explosion produced by the letter to the
Duke of Champdoce.
All? By no means. There was one of the inmates of the palace who
recalled it daily,--M. Thomas Elgin.
On the very evening after the scene, his generous indignation had so far
gotten the better of his usual reserve, and his pledge of neutrality,
that he had taken the Countess Sarah aside, and overwhelmed her with
sharp reproaches.
“You will have to eat your own words,” he had told her, among other
things, “if you use such abominable means to gratify your hatred.”
It is true, that, when he thus took his kinswoman aside, he also took
pains to be overheard by Henrietta. And besides, for fear, perhaps, that
she might not fully appreciate his sentiments, he had stealthily pressed
her hand, and whispered into her ear,--
“Poor, dear girl! But I am here. I shall watch.”
This sounded like a promise to afford her protection, which certainly
would have been efficient if it had been sincere. But was it sincere?
“No; most assuredly not!” said M. de Brevan when he was consulted. “It
can be nothing but vile hypocrisy and the beginning of an abominable
farce. You will see, madam.”
What Henrietta really saw was, that the Hon. M. Elgin suddenly underwent
a complete metamorphosis. A new Sir Thorn appeared, whom no one would
have ever suspected under the cloak of icy reserve which the former had
worn. His sympathetic pity of former days was succeeded by more tender
sentiments. It was not pity now, which animated his big, blue-china
eyes, but the half-suppressed flame of a discreet passion. In public he
did not commit himself much; but there was no little attention which
he did not pay Henrietta by stealth. He never left the room before
her; and, on the reception-evenings, he always took a seat by her, and
remained there till the end. The most direct result of these manoeuvres
was to keep M. de Brevan from her. The latter became naturally very
indignant at this, and began to dislike Sir Thorn to such an extent,
that he could hardly contain himself.
“Well, madam,” he said to Henrietta on one of the few occasions when he
could speak to her,--“well, what did I tell you? Does the wretch show
his hand clearly enough now?”
Henrietta discouraged her curious lover as much as she could; but it was
impossible for her to avoid him, as they lived under the same roof, and
sat down twice a day at the same table.
“The simplest way,” was M. de Brevan’s advice, “would be, perhaps, to
provoke an explanation.”
But he did not wait to be asked. One morning, after breakfast, he waited
for Henrietta in the vestibule; and, when she appeared, he said in an
embarrassed manner,--
“I must speak to you, madam; it is absolutely necessary.”