"COME in!" called out Bijou.
She was standing in front of the glass, brushing her hair leisurely.
The more she brushed, the more her hair curled, and scented the
atmosphere at the same time with a delicate perfume.
"The Count de Clagny has come, mademoiselle, to ask how you are?" said
the maid.
"How I am?"
"After the accident yesterday."
"Ah, yes! I had forgotten it!" And, going to the window, she asked:
"Is he driving?"
"No, mademoiselle, he came on horseback; but he is in the
drawing-room."
"Oh, very well, I will go down!"
As soon as the domestic had gone, Bijou slipped on another _peignoir_
quickly. She then put on some pink kid slippers without heels, which
made her little feet look delightfully droll, and with her hair
hanging loosely down over the frilled collar of her long, loose dress,
she ran downstairs to M. de Clagny.
On seeing her enter the room, the count rose quickly. His face looked
drawn and tired, and there was a sad expression in his eyes.
"How good of you to have put yourself about to come so early on my
account!" said Bijou, holding out both her hands to him. He pressed
them to his lips whilst she went on: "Why, it is scarcely eight
o'clock! you must have started from La Noriniere awfully early!"
"Don't let us trouble about me; but tell me how you are?"
"Why, I am perfectly well, thank you! You saw yesterday that I
followed the paper-chase just as though I had not had any fall
beforehand; and then, in the evening at the theatre, I did not look
ill, did I?"
"No, not exactly ill; but at the theatre it seemed to me that you were
a little excitable and nervous." And then he added sadly: "I did not
see much of you though, either; you scarcely troubled about anyone but
Hubert de Bernes, and you quite forsook your poor old friend."
She got up and went to him.
"Oh! how can you imagine--" she began, in a coaxing way, but he
interrupted her.
"I did not imagine, alas! I saw for myself; and I am not reproaching
you, my dear little girl--young people of course prefer young people,
it is quite natural!"
"Oh, no!" said Bijou, with evident sincerity; "not at all--I am not so
fond as all that of young people generally; and, above all, I cannot
endure young men about the age of M. de Bernes."
"Yes, I remember that you told me that once before; you said so the
first time I saw you; it was here in this room, when we were waiting
together for the arrival of your guests to dinner."
Denyse laughed.
"Well, what a memory you have!"
"Always, when it is a question of you." And then, in a voice which
trembled slightly, he asked: "Do you remember something you said to me
yesterday?"
"Yesterday?"
"Yes, yesterday, when I was holding you in my arms, and you were
nestling against me like a little trembling bird!"
Bijou appeared to be trying to remember what it was. She opened her
large eyes wide, and they looked just then like pale violets.
"No, I don't know what it was; I don't remember! I was a little upset
after my accident, you know!" And then, as M. de Clagny remained
silent, she asked: "Tell me, what could I have said that was so
interesting?"
He repeated her words slowly, watching Bijou all the time attentively,
as she listened with an amused air, her pretty lips parted.
"You said, 'I am so happy like this; I should like to stay here
always.'"
"I don't remember saying that; but, anyhow, I was quite right, because
it was perfectly true, you know!"
He drew Bijou to him, and asked:
"Truly, would it not alarm you to see me always near you like that?"
"Why, no, it would not alarm me! Oh, no, not at all!"
"Really and truly?"
"Really and truly! but why do you ask me that?"
"Oh, for no reason at all. Do you know whether Madame de Bracieux is
up yet?"
"She does not get up before half-past eight or nine o'clock,
especially when she is up late like last night; it was nearly two
o'clock when we came in!"
"And you are just as fresh-looking and as pretty as though you had
slept all night. Really, though, I should very much like to see Madame
de Bracieux."
"You want to speak to her yourself, or is it any message I can take to
her from you?"
"No; I want to speak to her myself."
"Well, you know she will probably keep you waiting 'a spell,' as they
say in this part of the world."
"Well, I will wait."
Bijou looked at M. de Clagny in surprise. He was pacing up and down
the long room.
"What's the matter?" she asked at last, in her curiosity, "for there
certainly is something the matter!"
"Oh, no!"
"Oh, yes! You keep marching backwards and forwards. That reminds
me--one day I saw Paul de Rueille pacing about like that."
"I saw him, too; it was the night of the La Balue, Juzencourt & Co.'s
dinner, whilst you were singing."
"No, oh, no! It was one day when he had some ridiculous duel, and he
did not know whether it would be better to tell Bertrade, or not to
tell her."
"And what did he do?"
"I fancy he did not tell her anything about it."
"Oh, well, he had more pluck than I have."
"Have you a duel on?" Bijou asked impetuously.
"A duel if you like to call it that; and a ridiculous one most
certainly--a fight with impossibilities. You cannot understand that,
my dear little Bijou."
"And you think that grandmamma will understand it better than I
could?"
"I do not know! Anyhow, she will listen to me, and she will pity me."
"But I, too,--I would listen, and I would pity you."
"I should not like to be pitied by you!" he said, and the expression
of his face betrayed deep suffering.
"You do not care for me, then?" she asked.
M. de Clagny made a movement forward, then stopping himself, he said,
with a calmness that contrasted strangely with the troubled look in
his eyes and his hoarse voice:
"Oh, yes; I do care for you. I care for you very much, indeed." And
then picking up his hat, which he had put down on one of the tables,
he moved quickly towards the door, which led on to the terrace. "I
will wait in the park," he said, "until the marchioness can see me."
When he saw, however, that Bijou had left the drawing-room, he
returned, and sank down on a chair, looking suddenly much older from
the effect of some mental anxiety which was weighing on him.
The marchioness did not keep him waiting long. She entered the room,
with a smile on her face.
"Well, you _are_ an early visitor!" she began; but on seeing the
worried look on her old friend's face, she asked anxiously: "Why, what
is it? Whatever has happened?"
"A great misfortune."
"Tell me?"
"It is precisely for that I have come so early. You will remember that
when I came here for the first time, a fortnight ago, I was admiring
Bijou, and you reminded me of the fact that she was your
grand-daughter, and might very well be mine?"
"Yes."
"I answered that I knew that perfectly well, but that all that was
mere reasoning, and that when the heart remains young it does not
listen to reason."
"I remember perfectly well! What then?"
"What then? Well, at present, I love Bijou! I love her with all my
heart!"
"Absurd!" exclaimed the old lady, lifting her hands in amazement.
"You are certainly consoling!"
"Well, but--my poor, old friend, what do you want me to say? You do
not expect to marry Bijou, do you?"
His eyes were moist, and his voice choked as he replied:
"No; I do not expect to! And yet, I beg you to tell your
grand-daughter what I have just confessed to you. I am fifty-nine. I
have twenty-four thousand pounds a year. I am neither a bad lot, nor
am I utterly repulsive-looking, and I love her as no other man can
love her."
"But only think that you are--"
"Thirty-eight years older than she is; it is for me that this
difference of age is more to be feared. Yes, I know that, and I am
willing to accept all the risks of such a disproportion."
"And she?"
"She? Well, let her decide for or against me. She is twenty-one; she
is no longer a child, and she knows what she is about."
"Yes; but that does not prevent me from having a certain amount of
responsibility, and--"
"Ah, you see; you are afraid that she may consent!"
"Afraid? oh, dear, no! I am quite convinced that such an ideal little
creature has, about the man she dreams of for her husband, a vision of
someone quite different from you."
"And, supposing, by chance--I do not expect this at all--but,
supposing you were mistaken, what should you do?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Nothing at all. And it is just this--I am afraid that you would use
your influence with Bijou."
"No; I shall just tell her what I think; I ought to, under the
circumstances--but nothing more."
"Then you _are_ going to speak to her?"
"Yes."
"May I come again a little later?"
"Oh, no! give me until to-morrow. I shall not speak to her, probably,
before this evening; but that need not prevent your coming to dinner
if you feel inclined to. It was for the--for the answer that I was
putting you off until to-morrow."
"If she should refuse, I shall go away."
"Where?"
"Oh, how can I care where?--my life will be over. I shall go and
finish my days in some out-of-the-way spot."
"You talked like that some twelve years ago; and here you are
to-day--I cannot say younger than then." The marchioness stopped
short, and then continued, with a smile: "Why should I not say it,
though? You really do seem younger to me now than you did in those
days; you are perfectly astonishing, my dear friend, anyone would
think you were about forty-five."
"If only it were true what you say!"
"It is, I assure you! but you know that does not alter the fact that
you are fifty-nine."