Part 32 (2/2)
There remained barely time to regain her self-control, and to compose her features. She profited by it.
She had her sweetest smile upon her lips as she greeted Marie-Anne.
Still she was embarra.s.sed; she did not know what excuse to give for her visit, and to gain time she pretended to be quite out of breath.
”Ah! it is not very easy to reach you, dear Marie-Anne,” she said, at last; ”you live _upon_ the summit of a veritable mountain.”
Mlle. Lacheneur said not a word. She was greatly surprised, and she did not attempt to conceal the fact.
”Aunt Medea pretended to know the road,” continued Mlle. Blanche, ”but she led me astray; did you not, aunt?”
As usual, the impecunious relative a.s.sented, and her niece resumed:
”But at last we are here. I could not, my dearest, resign myself to hearing nothing from you, especially after all your misfortunes. What have you been doing? Did my recommendation procure for you the work you desired?”
Marie-Anne could not fail to be deeply touched by this kindly interest on the part of her former friend. So, with perfect frankness, and without any false shame, she confessed that all her efforts had been fruitless. It had even seemed to her that several ladies had taken pleasure in treating her unkindly.
But Mlle. Blanche was not listening. A few steps from her stood the flowers brought from Sairmeuse; and their perfume rekindled her anger.
”At least,” she interrupted, ”you have here what will almost make you forget the gardens of Sairmeuse. Who sent you these beautiful flowers?”
Marie-Anne turned crimson. She did not speak for a moment, but at last she replied, or rather stammered:
”It is--an attention from the Marquis de Sairmeuse.”
”So she confesses it!” thought Mlle. de Courtornieu, amazed at what she was pleased to consider an outrageous piece of impudence.
But she succeeded in concealing her rage beneath a loud burst of laughter; and it was in a tone of raillery that she said:
”Take care, my dear friend; I am going to call you to account. It is from my fiance that you are accepting flowers.”
”What! the Marquis de Sairmeuse?”
”Has demanded the hand of your friend. Yes, my darling; and my father has given it to him. It is a secret as yet; but I see no danger in confiding in your friends.h.i.+p.”
She believed that she had inflicted a mortal wound upon Marie-Anne's heart; but though she watched her closely, she failed to detect the slightest trace of emotion upon her face.
”What dissimulation!” she thought. Then aloud, and with affected gayety, she resumed:
”And the country folks will see two weddings at about the same time, since you, also, are going to be married, my dear.”
”I!”
”Yes, you, you little deceiver! Everybody knows that you are engaged to a young man in the neighborhood, named--wait--I know--Chanlouineau.”
Thus the report that annoyed Marie-Anne so much reached her from every side.
”Everybody is for once mistaken,” said she, energetically. ”I shall never be that young man's wife.”
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