Whatever might have been the internal sufferings of the countess, they did not conquer her stoicism. She resumed her seat, and her lips were again sealed; their close compression and ashy hue alone told that the torture of the mental rack upon which she was stretched had been augmented.
As soon as Madeleine felt the count's hand relaxing its firm grasp, she withdrew hers, though he made a faint attempt to detain her. As she retired from the bed, his eyes followed her, and his lips moved again.
"You are not going, Madeleine?" questioned Maurice. "My father evidently knows you,—wants you near him; you are the only one he recognizes; do not leave us!"
Was that low, stifled sound which reached their ears, in spite of the firmly-compressed lips of the countess, an inward sob or groan?
As Madeleine sat down, Dr. Bayard entered. Maurice related what had passed, and the doctor requested Madeleine to address the patient. That he made an effort to reply was unmistakable. Dr. Bayard then spoke to the count, but without attracting his attention. He desired Maurice to accost him, but no better result ensued. He signified to the countess that she should do the same; but the agony of beholding her son recognize, cling to one toward whom she entertained the bitterest enmity, while the voice of his mother—his mother who loved him with all the strength of her proud nature—was unheeded, became intolerable. She rose up, not quickly, but with all her wonted stateliness, and with a firm and measured pace walked out of the room. She had no definite purpose,—she did not know where she was going, or where she wished to go,—but she could not abide the sight forced upon her eyes in that chamber.
"Maurice, attend your grandmother," whispered Madeleine.
Maurice had not thought of stirring, but he rose and opened the door of the adjoining room.
"Leave me! I would be alone!" said the countess, as he entered.
He returned to his father's side.
Dr. Bayard was giving his orders to Madeleine. A crisis had just passed, he said. Count Tristan was better; there was reason to hope that he would recover. One side was still paralyzed and there was partial paralysis of the tongue. His mind, too, was in a torpid state, but might gradually awaken. As Madeleine was the person whom he recognized, it would be well for her to remain near him and minister to his wants. Madeleine was more than content.