Mademoiselle Marguerite stood speechless and rigid. Persuaded that
Madame de Fondege was about to throw her arms round her neck and kiss
her, she was imposing the most terrible constraint upon herself, in
order to conceal her horror and aversion. But she was unnecessarily
alarmed. The hypocrisy of the General’s wife was superior to that
of Madame Leon. Madame de Fondege contented herself with pressing
Mademoiselle Marguerite’s hands and faltering: “What a misfortune! So
young--so sudden! It is frightful!” And, as she received no reply,
she added, with an air of sorrowful dignity: “I dare not ask your full
confidence, my dear unfortunate child. Confidence can be born only of
long acquaintance and mutual esteem. But you will learn to know me. You
will give me that sweet name of mother when I shall have deserved it.”
Standing at a little distance off, the General listened with the air of
a man who has a profound respect for his wife’s ability. “Now the ice is
broken,” he thought, “it will be strange if Athenais doesn’t do whatever
she pleases with that little savage.”
His hopes were so brightly reflected upon his countenance, that Madame
Leon, who was furtively watching him, became alarmed. “Ah! what do these
people want?” she said to herself; “and what do all these endearments
mean? Upon my word, I must warn my patron at once.” And, fancying that
no one noticed her, she slipped quietly and noiselessly from the room.
But Mademoiselle Marguerite was on the watch. Determined to fathom the
plotting that was going on around her, and frustrate it, she realized
that everything depended upon her watchfulness and her ability to
profit even by the most futile incidents. She had noticed the General’s
triumphant smile, and the look of anxiety that had suddenly clouded
Madame Leon’s face. So, without troubling herself about “the
proprieties,” she asked M. and Madame de Fondege to excuse her for a
second, and darted alter the housekeeper. Ah! she did not need to go
far. Leaning over the banisters, she saw Madame Leon and the Marquis
de Valorsay in earnest conversation in the hall below; the marquis as
phlegmatic and as haughty as usual, but the house-keeper fairly excited.
Marguerite at once understood that as Madame Leon knew that the marquis
was among the funeral guests, she had gone to warn him of Madame
de Fondege’s presence. This trivial circumstance proved that M. de
Fondege’s interests were opposed to those of M. de Valorsay; that they
must, therefore, hate each other, and that, with a little patience and
skill, she might utilize them, one against the other. It also proved
that Madame Leon was the Marquis de Valorsay’s paid spy and that he must
therefore have long been aware of Pascal’s existence. But she lacked the
time to follow out this train of thought. Her absence might awaken the
Fondeges’ suspicions; and her success depended on letting them suppose
that she was their dupe. She therefore returned to them as soon as