"You little know the full value of the service she has rendered me!" exclaimed Maurice, unheeding his grandmother's anger.
"A service which you must not and shall not stoop to accept. Never will I consent to that," returned the countess, fiercely. "Would you profit by her ignoble labor? Has your residence in this plebeian land bowed you as low as that?"
"If," replied Maurice, "it be a blow to my pride to be forced to accept her aid (for it has been tendered in a manner which cannot now be declined), it is a blow which has lifted me up, not bowed me down. It has made me feel that a great spirit which humbles itself and bends meekly to circumstance and does not regard any toil, nearest to its hand, as too lowly,—that spirit has truest cause for pride, since it earns the privilege of serving others. You have yet to learn that Madeleine's timely assistance has saved, not me alone, but our whole family from disgrace,—ay, positive disgrace! If you would know more on that subject, I refer you to my father. For myself, I will seek Madeleine and discover whether she has indeed made me so greatly her debtor."
The countess would have detained him; but Maurice was gone before she could speak.
He had alluded to his father as involved in this mysterious affair, which the countess was now tremblingly desirous of solving. She sought Count Tristan. He was in the drawing-room, where Maurice had left him. He sat beside the table,—his hands clinched, his head bowed, his face rigid in its expression of stony despair. He looked like a man who awaited the sentence of death.
The entrance of the countess scarcely roused him; nor did he hear, or rather heed, her first address. But when she placed the letter, received from Mr. Emerson, in his hand, and asked him if he knew what it meant, he sprang from his seat with a sudden burst of half-frantic joy.
"Who has done this?" he almost shrieked out.
"Who indeed?" returned his mother. "It has been suggested that it may be one of the evidences of Madeleine's presumption. I can scarcely credit it. I can scarcely believe she would have the audacity to use my name, or occupy herself with the affairs of my family. Yet there is no one else"—
"It is like her! It is she! And may Heaven bless her for it!" cried the count, stirred by a sudden impulse of genuine gratitude. "I must have confirmation! I must go to her at once!"