There was silence after that between the two men. Each was busy with his own thoughts, and when anon they talked together again, the subject uppermost in both their minds was not broached by either of them again. Matters of business, of the factory, of the new dwellings on the estate, absorbed the conversation, and half an hour later the invalid was ready for bed. And, more tenderly than any mother could have gathered her baby to her breast, Ronnay de Maurel picked up the invalid out of his chair and carried him in his powerful arms gently into the next room, where he laid him on his bed, undressed him and washed him--an office of mercy which he had performed for the old man every evening since he came home from Austria and laid aside his fine uniform for the peasant's blouse. CHAPTER IV KINDRED I The very atmosphere of the old Chateau de Courson had become electrical--excitement was in the air. Even Mme. la Marquise, that perfect pattern of aristocratic sang-froid, had been unable to sit still all morning. She wandered restlessly from room to room; she held long conversations with her son, with her brother, with Fernande--even with old Matthieu Renard and with Annette. "I expect my son, M. de Maurel," she said to the worthy couple, who, of a truth, could not understand why it was not the most natural thing in the world for a mother to receive her son. "He may come over at about noon and may stay to have dinner with us. Watch over your cooking, my good Annette--see that everything is very plain but thoroughly good." "_Bien, bien_, Mme. la Marquise," nodded Annette, who, womanlike, was more ready to become impregnated with that fever of excitement which pervaded the chateau than was sober old Matthieu. "You may be sure that I will do my best. I saw the General when first he came home from the war...." "Not General, my good woman," interposed Madame la Marquise haughtily; "my son is no General in the army of a parvenu. He is Comte de Maurel, Duc de Montauban, and bears no other grade or title; and all the democratic governments in the world cannot strip him of his rank." Now that Ronnay had so quickly--if somewhat coldly--acceded to her request for an interview, Mme. la Marquise's imagination went galloping on the wings of fancy. "We'll convert him yet," she said to her brother. "You'll see, my dear Baudouin! I'll make that unrelenting democrat dance to my piping before long. Once I have succeeded in drawing him away from that old fiend Gaston's influence, I'll twirl him round my little finger." M. de Courson gave a slight shrug. He was doubtful as to that. Madame promptly turned to her son. "Laurent, you are prepared to make friends with your brother, are you not?" she said, in a tone almost of entreaty.