At that moment, a servant announced that the Countess Orlowski waited in her carriage, and desired him to say that she feared she was late.
"You will excuse me then?" murmured the marchioness. "I must hasten to execute my mission for Mademoiselle Melanie, since it was she who so warmly solicited me to undertake this delicate little transaction, and I would not disappoint her for the world. Pray, do not forget to-morrow evening. Au revoir."
She floated out of the room, leaving the countess and her son speechless with rage and indignation.
Bertha and Maurice stood looking at each other, and then at M. de Bois, the only one who expressed no surprise, but seemed rather more gratified than moved when he beheld the countess sink back in her chair, and apply her bottle of sal volatile to her nose. The shock to her pride had been so terrible, that she appeared to be in danger of fainting.
CHAPTER XXIII.
NOBLE HANDS MADE NOBLER.
After the Marchioness de Fleury had departed, leaving her astonished guests in her drawing-room, M. de Bois was the first to break the silence.
"And you, Mademoiselle Bertha, are you also horrified at this rev—ev—evelation?" he asked.
"I?" answered Bertha, making an effort to collect herself. "No, I can never be horrified by any act of Madeleine's, for she could never be guilty of an action that was unworthy. I am only so much astonished that I feel stunned and confused, just as Maurice does; see, how bewildered he looks!"