"I called her yours involuntarily, because your heart seems so wholly to claim her. She will receive me,—will she not?"
"Gladly, I am sure."
"Then we will go to-morrow."
There were too many chords of sympathy which vibrated responsively in the bosoms of Mrs. Walton and Madeleine, too many planes upon which they could meet, for them to remain merely formal acquaintances. It was Madeleine's nature to treat those with whom she was thrown in contact with a genial courtesy which rose to kindness, often to affection; but it was only to a few that she really threw wide the portals of her large heart. Mrs. Walton's devotion to Maurice was claim enough for her to be ranked among the small number whom Madeleine admitted to that inner sanctuary.
On the other hand, Mrs. Walton was by no means impulsive in forming friendships; her existence had been brightened by very few. She had much constitutional reticence; she enjoyed a secluded life; she was not dependent upon others for happiness. A rich, inexhaustible well-spring of joy,—the one joy of her days,—flowed in through her son, and that pure fount was all-sufficient to water the flowers that sprang in her path. Maurice had awakened her womanly compassion, first, because Ronald had found in him a brother; next, because he was motherless and almost heart-broken, and finally, because his noble attributes won her admiring affection. But, although Mrs. Walton had no facility in making friendships, when she did become attached, it was with a sympathetic and absolute devotion which extended itself involuntarily to the beings who were dear to those she loved; thus her attachment for Maurice awakened an affection for Madeleine before they met; and when she clasped Madeleine's hand, and looked into her fair face, the reserve she invariably experienced toward strangers at once melted away, and in their very first interview these two responsive spirits drew near to each other with a mutual sense that their intercourse must become closer and closer.
Madeleine had frequently seen Ronald when, habited as the sœur de bon secours, she kept nightly vigil by the bed of Maurice, and Ronald had marked the classic features of the "holy sister," and quickly recognized them again when he was presented to Mademoiselle de Gramont.
After Mrs. Walton had visited Madeleine, Ronald persuaded her to call with him on Mademoiselle de Merrivale. Bertha received her quondam partner of the dance with much warmth and vivacity; but the countess looked with freezing hauteur upon these American friends of her grandson. Though Mrs. Walton was naturally timid, she was unawed by the countess's assumption of superiority; her self-respect enabled her to remain perfectly composed and collected, and to appear unconscious of the disdain with which she was treated.
This initiative visit was quickly followed by others, and Mrs. Walton proved how little she dreaded the countess by inviting Bertha to dine with her.
"I shall be delighted to go," said Bertha, "that is, if my aunt does not object."
"Rather tardily remembered," answered the countess, with acerbity.