Madame de Gramont made no reply, but her breast visibly heaved.
"Did you sit up?" asked Bertha. "Are you not very much fatigued? Did Madeleine watch also? Is she not very weary?"
"Not very; nor am I." Then he turned to his grandmother. "Will you come with me to see my father? You will find that every arrangement possible has been made for your privacy."
The lips of the countess curled scornfully, but she rose and passed into her chamber.
"I must make ready also," cried Bertha, flying out of the room. "I am so glad that we are to go."
She returned wearing her bonnet and mantle. It was sometime before the countess reëntered, prepared to depart.
Maurice had ordered a carriage, and they were soon at Madeleine's door.
If the countess noticed the draperies which closed off a portion of the house, she gave no sign of doing so.
Madeleine was sitting beside Count Tristan, but rose to yield her place to his mother. Madame de Gramont only betrayed that she was aware of her niece's presence by a slight movement of the head, while her eyes looked past her toward the passive figure lying on the bed. She took the vacant seat with a sort of frozen quietude, and her limbs seemed to settle themselves rigidly into positions where they remained immovable.
Madeleine at once retired, knowing that her presence must be galling to the proud relative whom circumstance thus forced into contact with her; nor did she reënter the room again while the countess was there. Maurice remained with his father and grandmother, but Bertha stole away to Madeleine's boudoir.