“Oh, I am so happy! But I expected it.”
M. de Chandore bent his head to conceal a tear which burned in his eyes.
Then he said very low,--
“Then the thing is settled.”
At once, rather comforted by the joy that was sparkling in his
grandchild’s eyes, he began reproaching himself for his selfishness, and
for being unhappy, when his Dionysia seemed to be so happy. Jacques had,
of course, been allowed to visit the house as a lover; and the very day
before the fire at Valpinson, after having long and carefully counted
the days absolutely required for all the purchases of the trousseau,
and all the formalities of the event, the wedding-day had been finally
fixed.
Thus Dionysia was struck down in the very height of her happiness, when
she heard, at the same time, of the terrible charges brought against M.
de Boiscoran, and of his arrest.
At first, thunderstruck, she had lain nearly ten minutes unconscious
in the arms of her aunts, who, like the grandfather, were themselves
utterly overcome with terror. But, as soon as she came to, she
exclaimed,--
“Am I mad to give way thus? Is it not evident that he is innocent?”
Then she had sent her telegram to the marquis, knowing well, that,
before taking any measures, it was all important to come to an
understanding with Jacques’s family. Then she had begged to be left
alone; and she had spent the night in counting the minutes that must
pass till the hour came when the train from Paris would bring her help.
At eight o’clock she had come down to give orders herself that a
carriage should be sent to the station for the marchioness, adding that
they must drive back as fast as they could. Then she had gone into the
sitting-room to join her grandfather and her aunts. They talked to her;
but her thoughts were elsewhere.
At last a carriage was heard coming up rapidly, and stopping before the
house. She got up, rushed into the hall, and cried,--
“Here is Jacques’s mother!”