Part 12 (1/2)

And then he added with a smile which was quite pathetic: ”And there are plenty of poor wretches like I am who are in the same predicament!”

”Oh!” said Bijou, taking the tutor's hand with an abrupt movement, ”do forgive me--how horrid and thoughtless I am! You will detest me, shall you not?”

She pressed his hand slowly in a way which sent a thrill through him.

”Detest you?” he stammered out, almost beside himself with joy. ”I adore you!--I simply adore you!”

Bijou gazed at him in a startled way, but there was a tender expression in her eyes, which were dimmed with tears. Her voice was quite changed when she spoke again:

”Go away now!” she said, ”and do not say that again; you must never, never say it again!”

When he reached the door he turned round, and saw that Bijou had thrown herself down on the divan, and was sobbing, with her face buried in the cus.h.i.+ons. He wanted to go back to her, but he did not dare, and, without saying another word, he left the room.

IV.

BIJOU, who, as a rule, was to be seen every morning trotting about, either in the house or the park, did not appear until after the first luncheon-bell.

Pierrot, who had been quite uneasy, rushed across to meet her, and a.s.sailed her with questions before she had had time to say good-morning to the marchioness and to her Uncle Alexis.

He wanted to know why he had not seen her as usual in the dairy, where she always went every morning to inspect the cheeses. Why had she not been there, as she had not been out riding?

”How do you know that I have not been out riding?” asked Bijou.

”Because Patatras was in the stable,” replied Pierrot. ”I went to see.”

”Oh, then you keep a watch on me?” she said, laughing.

”That is not keeping a watch on you,” answered Pierrot, turning red; ”and then, too, it isn't only me! we were both of us--M. Giraud--”

”What grammar--good heavens--what grammar!” exclaimed M. de Jonzac, in despair.

”What's it matter? If there was anyone here, I'd take care to put the style on; but when there's only us!” And then turning to Bijou, he continued: ”It's quite true, you know! M. Giraud was just as much surprised as I. He kept on saying all the time: 'We always see mademoiselle every day hurrying about everywhere, she must be ill!'

And then I'd say, 'Oh, no! it can't be that! the Bijou is never ill!'

You see, Monsieur Giraud, I was quite right--”

”No, you were wrong! I was not exactly ill, but tired, out of sorts. I am only just up.”

She walked across to the tutor, who was leaning so heavily against the window-frame that it seemed as though he wanted to hollow out a niche for himself with his back.

”I want to thank you, Monsieur Giraud,” said Bijou, holding out her hand to him, ”for being so kind as to think about me.”

Very pale, and visibly embarra.s.sed, the young man scarcely dared touch the soft little hand lying so confidingly in his; he looked very delighted, though, at being treated with such cordiality, as it was more than he had ever expected again.

”Mademoiselle,” he stammered out, seized with a vague desire either to run away or else to give way to his emotion, ”please do not believe that I should have taken the liberty of making all those remarks.”

”Oh, well, it would not have mattered; there is plenty of liberty allowed with _the Bijou_, as Pierrot would say.” And then suddenly looking very thoughtful and absorbed, she asked: ”Have they been working at the play this morning?”

”Working?” exclaimed Pierrot, with an air of surprise; ”working without you there? Oh, by jingo, no: it's quite enough to peg away at it when you are with us, without going at it while you are away. Oh, no! it would be too bad--that would! We had a dose of it last night--the precious play--and I, more particularly, because I am obliged to work at other things.”