"Look around you," said Helene, "and judge."
The room in which they were was a charming boudoir, adjoining the dining-room, with which it communicated not only by folding doors, but also by an opening almost concealed by rare and peculiar flowers. The boudoir was hung with blue satin; over the doors were pictures by Claude Audran, representing the history of Venus in four tableaux, while the panels formed other episodes of the same history, all most graceful in outline and voluptuous in expression. This was the house which Nocé, in the innocence of his heart, had designated as fit for a prude.
"Gaston," said Helene, "I wonder whether I should really mistrust this man, who calls himself my father. My fears are more aroused here than at Rambouillet."
After examining the boudoir, Gaston and Helene passed into the dining-room, and then into the garden, which was ornamented with marble statues of the same subjects as the pictures. As they returned, they passed Madame Desroches, who had not lost sight of them, and who, raising her hands in a despairing manner, exclaimed:
"Oh, mon Dieu! what would monseigneur think of this?"
These words kindled the smoldering fire in Gaston's breast.
"Monseigneur!" cried he; "you heard, Helene—monseigneur! We are then, as I feared, in the house of one of those great men who purchase pleasure at the expense of honor. Helene, do not allow yourself to be deceived. At Rambouillet I foresaw danger; here I see it."
"Mon Dieu," said Helene, "but if, by aid of his valets, this man should retain me here by force."
"Do not fear, Helene; am not I here?"
"Oh!" said Helene, "and must I renounce the sweet idea of finding a father, a preceptor, a friend."