"Ah, it would--it would!" she exclaimed.
He was astonished at the passion of her accent; astonished still more
at the tone with which she went on, laying her hand on his arm: "Mr.
Garnett, he must not be asked--he has been asked too often to do things
that he hated!"
Garnett looked at the girl with a shock of awe. What abysses of
knowledge did her purity hide?
"But, my dear Miss Hermione--" he began.
"I know what you are going to say," she interrupted him. "It is
necessary that he should be present at the marriage or the du Trayas
will break it off. They don't want it very much, at any rate," she
added with a strange candour, "and they will not be sorry, perhaps--for
of course Louis would have to obey them."
"So I explained to your father," Garnett assured her.
"Yes--yes; I knew you would put it to him. But that makes no
difference, Mr. Garnett. He must not be forced to come unwillingly."
"But if he sees the point--after all, no one can force him!"
"No; but if it is painful to him--if it reminds him too much ... Oh,
Mr. Garnett, I was not a child when he left us.... I was old enough to
see ... to see how it must hurt him even now to be reminded. Peace was
all he asked for, and I want him to be left in peace!"
Garnett paused in deep embarrassment. "My dear child, there is no need
to remind you that your own future--"
She had a gesture that recalled her mother. "My future must take care
of itself; he must not be made to see us!" she said imperatively. And
as Garnett remained silent she went on: "I have always hoped he did not
hate me, but he would hate me now if he were forced to see me."
"Not if he could see you at this moment!" he exclaimed.
She lifted her face with swimming eyes.
"Well, go to him, then; tell him what I have said to you!"
Garnett continued to stand before her, deeply struck. "It might be the
best thing," he reflected inwardly; but he did not give utterance to
the thought. He merely put out his hand, holding Hermione's in a long
pressure.
"I will do whatever you wish," he replied.
"You understand that I am in earnest?" she urged tenaciously.
"I am quite sure of it."
"Then I want you to repeat to him what I have said--I want him to be
left undisturbed. I don't want him ever to hear of us again!"
The next day, at the appointed hour, Garnett resorted to the Luxembourg
gardens, which Mr. Newell had named as a meeting-place in preference to
his own lodgings. It was clear that he did not wish to admit the young
man any further into his privacy than the occasion required, and the
extreme shabbiness of his dress hinted that pride might be the cause of
his reluctance.
Garnett found him feeding the sparrows, but he desisted at the young
man's approach, and said at once: "You will not thank me for bringing
you all this distance."
"If that means that you are going to send me away with a refusal, I
have come to spare you the necessity," Garnett answered.
Mr. Newell turned on him a glance of undisguised wonder, in which an
undertone of disappointment might almost have been detected.
"Ah--they've got no use for me, after all?" he said ironically.
Garnett, in reply, related without comment his conversation with
Hermione, and the message with which she had charged him. He remembered
her words exactly and repeated them without modification, heedless of
what they implied or revealed.
Mr. Newell listened with an immovable face, occasionally casting a
crumb to his flock. When Garnett ended he asked: "Does her mother know
of this?"
"Assuredly not!" cried Garnett with a movement of disgust.
"You must pardon me; but Mrs. Newell is a very ingenious woman." Mr.
Newell shook out his remaining crumbs and turned thoughtfully toward
Garnett.
"You believe it's quite clear to Hermione that these people will use my
refusal as a pretext for backing out of the marriage?"
"Perfectly clear--she told me so herself."
"Doesn't she consider the young man rather chicken-hearted?"
"No; he has already put up a big fight for her, and you know the French
look at these things differently. He's only twenty-three and his
marrying against his parents' approval is in itself an act of heroism."
"Yes; I believe they look at it that way," Mr. Newell assented. He rose
and picked up the half-smoked cigar which he had laid on the bench
beside him.
"What do they wear at these French weddings, anyhow? A dress-suit,
isn't it?" he asked.
The question was such a surprise to Garnett that for the moment he
could only stammer out--"You consent then? I may go and tell her?"
"You may tell my girl--yes." He gave a vague laugh and added: "One way
or another, my wife always gets what she wants."