"In regard to this property, Mr. Lorrillard informs me," resumed Maurice; but the count interrupted him.
"A visit to Madame de Fleury is now the first step to be taken; there you may be useful; you are such a decided favorite of hers, that your advocacy may be inestimable. Suppose you call at once, and learn at what hour she will receive your grandmother, Bertha, and myself. A visit from you will open the way."
"I will call with pleasure," answered Maurice. "I have a letter from Mr. Lorrillard to his friend Mr. Emerson, which I should like to deliver without delay. It is a matter of business. Mr. Lorrillard thinks that, as my estate is wholly unencumbered"—
"We can talk of that at another time," replied the count, hurriedly. "Suppose you pay your visit to the marchioness at once. It is hardly worth while waiting for the ladies; no one can tell when they may return."
Maurice, though he could not interpret the count's singular manner, could not even remotely divine the meaning of its abruptness and confusion, felt himself checked in his proposed communication. He experienced no uneasiness; he had not the faintest conception that the count was dealing doubly with him, and that his very first act, on reaching Washington, had been to mortgage the estate of his son for so large amount that, but for the advent of the railroad, upon which he confidently calculated, the mortgage must prove ruinous to the interests of the landholder.
Had Maurice been aware of this fact, he would not for a moment have contemplated delivering to Mr. Emerson Mr. Lorrillard's letter, in which it was distinctly stated that the property of the viscount was without lien.
Further discussion between the father and son was prevented by the entrance of the countess, accompanied by Lord Linden, and followed by Bertha and Gaston de Bois.
Maurice, as he saluted his grandmother, was gratified to observe that, albeit her air was by no means less stately, it was more satisfied and complacent. Though titled nobility had no native existence in the semi-civilized land, she rejoiced to find that it was sometimes imported. She had at last encountered an individual with whom she could associate without derogation. The French, as all the world knows, have a national antipathy towards the English; but a nobleman, even though he chanced to be an Englishman, was hailed by the Countess de Gramont, upon American soil, as a God-send. Lord Linden was not aware of the compliment implied by the unwonted graciousness of her demeanor, and the tone of almost equality in which she addressed him.
Maurice comprehended the altered expression that softened his grandmother's countenance, but was struck and amazed by the wonderful radiance of Bertha's face. Her eyes shone as though a veritable sun lived behind those azure heavens, and almost annihilated their color by its brightness; her lips were eloquent with a voiceless happiness they did not care to hide, yet could not speak; the laughing dimples played perpetually about her softly suffused cheeks; her elastic feet almost danced, so airy was their tread; about her whole presence there was a buoyant glow that seemed to encompass her with an atmosphere of light and warmth.
She had not attempted to disguise her joy on again meeting Gaston de Bois; and, though he had paid them repeated visits during their sojourn in Washington, there was always the same deepening of the hue upon Bertha's cheek; the same flood of sunshine brightening over her face; the same softening of the tones of her voice; the same quickened rise and fall of her fair bosom when he approached.