Claude was perfectly sincere in his appeal for a hope of pardon. His heart was elastic enough to hold two affections at the same time. His passionate love for Odette did not interfere with his tender, admiring affection for Elaine; and, besides, it cut him to the quick to meet scorn and contempt where he had always before found loving idolatry.
Elaine, as he left her, buried her face in her hands, weeping: "I am bereaved. My husband is dead, but my son is left me; henceforth I only live for him."
So life recommenced for these three, as if nothing had happened. Paul always found his mother smiling and apparently cheerful. He saw her pale face, however, marked with lines of care, and was anxious about her health, fearing some secret complaint that she would not confess for fear of distressing her dear ones.
Her torments were increasing. At first Claude and Odette were silent and constrained in her presence; then gradually their prudent guard relaxed, knowing so well that Elaine would not betray them. Paul's confidence was so absolute and loyal that not the least suspicion could come to him.
But Elaine's misery increased every hour. We can accomplish in a moment of sublime courage and despair some wonderful act of self-martyrdom; but it is beyond human strength to meet with the same heroism an agony, renewed hour after hour, day after day.
Often was she tempted to shriek out the horrible truth, and have the guilty pair driven from her presence. As the days passed by and she occasionally surprised a glance passing between them, or overheard some whispered remark, she felt that she would become insane, unless she had some respite from her unceasing torture. So one morning, about a fortnight later, she sent for M. Sirvin.
"Sir!" said Elaine, as he appeared in answer to her summons, "I wish to have you and Mme. Frager leave the house for a short time. You can easily arrange some sketching tour with Grenoble, while Mme. Frager can accept Mme. de Smarte's invitation to spend a few days with her at St. Cloud."
Claude did not reply, and Mme. Sirvin, thinking his hesitation arose from disinclination, cried: "Do you not see that I can not stand this life another hour? I am growing insane, and my mouth will proclaim the truth in spite of my struggles to be silent."