Paulette came in with the orange-flower water. She drank it obediently. Annette, her eyes red with crying, came to her. “Grandmother has gone to bed with a nervous headache,” she told her aunt. “She is all upset because of all that has happened, but most, I think, because of your going away.”
“That is Marcelline all over,” returned Madame. “I should think if any one were to be upset it should be I.”
“I suppose you have no idea of how long you will be away?” remarked Annette.
“Of course not. How can I tell? I wish you would not bring up such subjects, Annette.” Then Annette understood the dread which possessed her aunt, and the effort she was making to be calm and brave.
Annette drew closer to Lucie. “Dear Lucie, dear Lucie,” she murmured, “you are all tired out. Come, let us go to bed. Grandfather is upstairs, and grandmother went long ago.”
So they went upstairs together, leaving Madame Guerin alone with her fears and the little stained book.
CHAPTER XV
GASPARD
IT was after Madame Guerin and Jean had gone that Gaspard arrived. A tall, bronzed young man he was, graver than Victor, very gentle, very quiet. Lucie found him polite, but it was very evident that he preferred Annette to her. The two spent much time together and Lucie felt rather lonely. Without Madame Guerin’s brisk presence the house appeared very still. Upon leaving, madame had asked Paulette to have an eye to matters domestic, not trusting entirely to the judgment of the two young maids.
The first report of Victor informed them that he was hanging between life and death, barely holding his own, yet this much was more than had been anticipated and every one was more hopeful. Pom Pom, too, had come through his ordeal satisfactorily, and while the doctor could not, yet, give much encouragement he did not discourage.
For some reason Odette placed the two in the same balance. “If one recovers the other will,” she declared to Lucie.