Bertha made no remark, though she looked as though she wished to speak, and could not summon resolution. She took an opportunity, while the countess was conversing with their guest, to whisper to her cousin,—
"You asked M. de Bois, and he could give you no information concerning Madeleine?"
"None at all," replied Maurice in a low tone. Then, turning to the countess, he said aloud, "I also must bid you adieu, my grandmother; I am going immediately to Rennes; if I obtain the information there, which I think probable, I shall start at once for Scotland and seek Lady Vivian."
"You have not consulted your father, Maurice," the countess answered, with an emphasis which was intended to remind him that he was not a free agent.
"I must beg you to make my apologies to him."
Maurice, though he treated his grandmother with deference which left her no room for complaint, could not force himself to assume his wonted air of affection; his love for her had waned from the hour he listened to the unjust accusation, the reproaches, the contumely she had heaped upon the innocent and unfortunate orphan placed at her mercy. The softening veil had fallen from her character, and disclosed its harsh, proud selfishness and policy. He now knew that she had offered her destitute relative shelter, not from any genuine, womanly feeling of tenderness and compassion, but simply because she deemed it humiliating to allow one who bore her name to be placed in a doubtful and friendless position. All Madeleine's gentleness, cheerfulness, diligence to please, had failed to melt her aunt's impenetrable heart and make it expand to yield her a sacred place; the countess had misinterpreted her highest virtues,—grossly insulted her by attributing shameful motives to her most disinterested conduct, and destroyed all the merit of her own benefactions by reminding the recipient of her indebtedness. Maurice felt that, truly to venerate a person, he must be moved by esteem for noble qualities possessed. The recent revelation of his grandmother's actual attributes estranged and revolted him, until it became difficult to treat her with even the outward semblance of reverence.
When the viscount bade farewell, M. de Bois also took his leave.
"You will write to me as soon as you reach Edinburgh?" pleaded Bertha to her cousin.
"I will certainly write," answered Maurice; "meantime comfort yourself with the assurance that I will not relinquish my search until Madeleine is restored to us."