Part 122 (1/2)

The past seemed fading away, and she was beginning to entertain hopes of a new and better life, when one day a servant entered, and said:

”There is a man below who wishes to speak with Madame.”

CHAPTER LII

Half reclining upon a sofa, Mme. Blanche was listening to a new book which Aunt Medea was reading aloud, and she did not even raise her head as the servant delivered his message.

”A man?” she asked, carelessly; ”what man?”

She was expecting no one; it must be one of the laborers employed by Martial.

”I cannot inform Madame,” replied the servant. ”He is quite a young man; is dressed like a peasant, and is perhaps, seeking a place.”

”It is probably the marquis whom he desires to see.”

”Madame will excuse me, but he said particularly that he desired to speak to her.”

”Ask his name and his business, then. Go on, aunt,” she added; ”we have been interrupted in the most interesting portion.”

But Aunt Medea had not time to finish the page when the servant reappeared.

”The man says Madame will understand his business when she hears his name.”

”And his name?”

”Chupin.”

It was as if a bomb-sh.e.l.l had exploded in the room.

Aunt Medea, with a shriek, dropped her book, and sank back, half fainting, in her chair.

Blanche sprang up with a face as colorless as her white cashmere _peignoir_, her eyes troubled, her lips trembling.

”Chupin!” she repeated, as if she hoped the servant would tell her she had not understood him correctly; ”Chupin!”

Then angrily:

”Tell this man that I will not see him, I will not see him, do you hear?”

But before the servant had time to bow respectfully and retire, the young marquise changed her mind.

”One moment,” said she; ”on reflection I think I will see him. Bring him up.”

The servant withdrew, and the two ladies looked at each other in silent consternation.

”It must be one of Chupin's sons,” faltered Blanche, at last.

”Undoubtedly; but what does he desire?”

”Money, probably.” Aunt Medea lifted her eyes to heaven.