REPARATION.
Maurice, with as much _nonchalance_ as he could assume, informed his
grandmother that he had engaged a _garde malade_ to assist in the care
of his father. When good Mrs. Lawkins made her appearance the next
morning, looking as plump, rosy and "comfortable" as English nurses (and
house-keepers) are wont to look, the countess merely bestowed upon her a
passing glance and then took no further notice of her presence. It never
occurred to Madame de Gramont to inquire into the fitness of this person
for her position and duties. Besides, the countess seldom addressed a
"hireling," except to utter a command or a rebuke. Maurice was greatly
relieved when he perceived his grandmother's perfect indifference to the
individual whom he had selected. Mrs. Lawkins had been thrown "into a
flutter" by Madeleine's cautions and the prospect of being obliged to
parry a series of cross-questions; but the reception she received
quickly restored her equanimity. Count Tristan was sitting near his
mother; the worthy house-keeper made her obeisance to both in silence,
then turned to Maurice for directions.
"You have brought your trunk with you?" inquired the latter.
"I left it in the entry, sir."
The count looked up at the sound of that voice. Immediately recognizing
one whose association in his mind with Madeleine struck the chord which
vibrated most readily, he exclaimed, in a piteous tone, "Madeleine!
Madeleine! Why don't she come? Wont Madeleine come soon?"
Maurice, Bertha, and Mrs. Lawkins were filled with consternation at
these words, which they imagined must arouse the suspicions of the
countess; but she had not condescended to waste sufficient attention
upon the domestic her son had hired to perceive that Count Tristan's
ejaculations had any connection with her presence. The disdainful lady's
eyes sparkled with anger at the unexpected mention of one whose name she
desired never more to hear. She drew her chair close to Count Tristan's
and said in harsh accents,--
"I trust, my son, that you have no wish ungratified? When your _mother_
is by your side, _whom_ else _can_ you desire?"
Count Tristan was too easily cowed by her manner to venture a reply,
even if his disordered intellect could have suggested any appropriate
answer.
"I rejoice at your restoration to me," continued his mother; "and the
filial duty I have the right to expect prompts me to believe that you
also rejoice at our reunion."
The invalid looked very far from rejoicing; but the countess solaced
herself by interpreting his silence into an affirmative.
From that time he never breathed Madeleine's name in his mother's
presence; but those who watched beside him, often heard it murmured when
he slept, or just as he wakened, before full consciousness was restored.
From the day that he returned to the hotel, he sank into a state of deep
dejection. He would sit or lie for hours with his eyes wide open,
without apparently seeing or hearing what passed around him, while an
expression of despair overshadowed his deeply furrowed countenance.
The manifest weakness of his brain was a severer trial to Madame de
Gramont than his enfeebled bodily condition; but she dealt with it as
with her other trials; she would not acknowledge to herself the
existence of his mental malady; she refused to admit that he lacked
power to reason, at the very moment when she was exerting the species of
authority she would have employed to keep an unreasoning child in check.
The idea that it would be well to divert his mind, and render the hours
less tedious, never occurred to her, or, if it did, she was totally at a
loss to suggest any means of pleasantly whiling away the time. Her own
health had not wholly recovered from its recent shock; the slow fever
still lingered in her veins, but the daily routine of her life was as
unchanged as though her strength had been unimpaired.
Dr. Bayard had ordered his patient to drive out every day, and the
countess considered it her duty to accompany him. The pillows which Mrs.
Lawkins carefully placed for the support of the invalid were almost as
much needed by his mother; but she sat erect, and drew herself away from
them, as though the merest approach to a reclining posture would have
been a lapse from dignity. The count no longer gazed out of the window
with that calm look of enjoyment which Maurice and Madeleine had
remarked; he usually closed his eyes, or fixed them on his son, sitting
opposite, with a mournfully appealing look, which seemed to ask,--
"Can no help come to me? Will it _always_ be thus?"
Week after week passed on. Maurice, in spite of his unremitting
attention to his father, found time to pay daily visits to Madeleine.
She no longer made her appearance in the exhibition-rooms, or saw the
ladies who came to her establishment, upon business; but when Count
Tristan was removed she had no gracious plea for excusing herself to
those who called as visitors. She received them with graceful ease and
dignified composure. Not one of them had courage or inclination to make
the faintest allusion to the past, or to their acquaintance with her as
"Mademoiselle Melanie." It was Mademoiselle de Gramont in whose presence
they sat. Even Madame de Fleury had too much perception to venture to
ask her advice upon questions of the deepest interest,--namely, the most
becoming shapes for new attire, the selection of colors, the choice of
appropriate trimmings, or some equally important matter which engrossed
that troubled lady's thoughts, and caused her many wakeful nights.
After Count Tristan and Maurice returned to the hotel, Bertha escaped
from imprisonment. When she informed her aunt that she was suffering
from want of fresh air, the countess requested her to accompany Count
Tristan and herself upon their daily drive; but Bertha maintained that
driving would do her no good; she detested a close carriage; she wanted
more active exercise,--she would take a brisk walk with her maid. Madame
de Gramont would assuredly have mounted guard over her niece in person,
were it not that the fatigue experienced even after a couple of hours'
driving, admonished her that she lacked the strength for pedestrianism.
Bertha was allowed to go forth attended only by Adolphine. Her walk
always lay in one direction, and that was toward the residence of
Madeleine; and, strange to say, she never failed to encounter M. de
Bois, who was always going the same way! These invigorating promenades
had a marvellous effect in restoring Bertha's faded color and vanished
spirits; and in the small, sad circle of which the stern-visaged
Countess de Gramont formed the centre, there was, at least, one radiant
face.
About this time the quiet monotony of Maurice's life was broken by a
letter from his partner, Mr. Lorrillard. This gentleman had only
recently learned from Mr. Emerson the painful circumstances which had
taken place in connection with the loan made to the Viscount de Gramont
at Mr. Lorrillard's suggestion. Mr. Lorrillard prided himself upon being
too good a judge of character and upon having studied that of Maurice
too thoroughly, not to feel confident that some satisfactory
explanation could be given to occurrences which wore a very dubious
aspect. He wrote kindly, yet frankly, to Maurice, requesting to know
whether the account of the transaction which he had received was
thoroughly correct, and more than hinting his certainty that all the
facts had not been brought to light. Maurice was sorely perplexed; but,
in spite of his strong desire to shield his father, he finally decided
that Mr. Lorrillard was entitled to a full explanation, and that his own
position would never be endurable while a suspicion shadowed his name.
He despatched Mr. Lorrillard the following letter.
"_My dear Sir_:--
"I cannot but be touched by the confidence you repose in me.
I do not thank you less because you have done me the common
justice which is due from one man to another. When I
received the loan from Mr. Emerson, I as firmly believed
that the security I gave him was unquestionable, as he did.
I had been led to think that the power of attorney in my
father's hands had not been used. I was mistaken. I pass
over Mr. Emerson's proceedings, which, however severe, were
authorized by the light in which he viewed my conduct. The
ten thousand dollars he loaned me were, at once, repaid him
by the generosity of one of my relatives, Mademoiselle
Madeleine de Gramont, whose debtor I remain. My father's
dangerous illness has detained me in Washington. The instant
he is sufficiently convalescent I purpose returning to
Charleston to resume my professional duties.
"I am, my dear sir,
"Yours, very truly,
"MAURICE DE GRAMONT."
Mr. Lorrillard was highly gratified by the simple, ingenuous, yet manly
tone of this letter, and well pleased to find his impressions correct.
He immediately despatched an epistle to Mr. Emerson which convinced the
latter that he could only conciliate a valued friend by making every
possible reparation.
A few days later Maurice was surprised by Mr. Emerson's card. He could
not converse with him in the presence of Count Tristan and Madame de
Gramont, and was obliged to receive him in the general drawing-room of
the hotel.
When Maurice entered, Mr. Emerson extended his hand and said, with an
air of frankness,--
"I am a just man, M. de Gramont, and I came to make you an apology. My
friend, Mr. Lorrillard, has convinced me that I ought to have paused
before I yielded to the conviction that one whom he esteemed so highly
had wilfully taken advantage of my credulity. I am now convinced that
you were not aware that your property was mortgaged, and I come to tell
you so."
"You have again made me your debtor," replied Maurice, not a little
gratified. "I give you my word, as a gentleman, that I had not the
remotest suspicion the property in question was encumbered. I have no
right to complain of the severity of your treatment; it was justifiable
under the circumstances."
"Hardly," replied the other. "But I shall esteem it a privilege to make
all the reparation in my power. Of course you are aware that the
railroad mentioned passes through your property, and that the estate has
already doubled its former value? I came here to say that I am ready not
only to loan you the ten thousand dollars you originally requested me to
advance, but a larger sum, if you so desire."
What a sensation of thankfulness and relief those words caused Maurice!
He would not only be enabled to repay Madeleine the amount she had so
generously loaned, but he would be in a situation to meet the heavy
expenses which his father and grandmother were daily incurring! Count de
Gramont had never given his son entire confidence, and the latter was
not aware of the _exact_ state of the count's affairs; but Maurice had
too much cause to believe that they were in a ruinous condition. He had
only recently become acquainted with the mortifying fact that, from the
time his father left the Château de Gramont, Bertha had been the banker
of the whole party.
"I will meet your offer as frankly as it is made," answered Maurice,
after a moment's reflection. "If you feel justified in loaning me
fifteen thousand dollars, instead of ten, upon the former security, I
will esteem it a great favor."
"Willingly; come to my office to-day, at any hour you please, and we
will settle the matter. Make haste, for I must write to Lorrillard by
this evening's mail, and I desire to inform him, in answer to his
somewhat caustic letter, that I have made the _amende honorable_."