On hearing the name, Monsieur de Lamotte felt troubled in spite of himself, but, overcoming the impression, he rose to meet the visitor.
“You had better stay,” he said to the cure, who was also rising to take leave. “Stay; we have probably nothing to say which cannot be said before you.”
Derues entered the room, and, after the usual compliments, sat down by the fire, opposite Monsieur de Lamotte.
“You did not expect me,” he said, “and I ought to apologise for surprising you thus.”
“Give me some news of my wife,” asked Monsieur de Lamotte anxiously.
“She has never been better. Your son is also to perfect health.”
“But why are you alone? Why does not Marie accompany you? It is ten weeks since she went to Paris.”
“She has not yet quite finished the business with which you entrusted her. Perhaps I am partly the cause of this long absence, but one cannot transact business as quickly as one would wish. But, you have no doubt heard from her, that all is finished, or nearly so, between us. We have drawn up a second private contract, which annuls the former agreement, and I have paid over a sum of one hundred thousand livres.”
“I do not comprehend,” said Monsieur de Lamotte. “What can induce my wife not to inform me of this?”
“You did not know?”