"I vow to goodness that grandmother of yours hasn't got the least idea of manners. I wonder if that's the style in her country? Why, we shouldn't call it common decency here! Law sakes! she's had a lesson or two from me, I think. Would you believe it, this very blessed morning she had no more civility than just to bid me leave the room as she wanted to speak to the doctor. I vow to goodness, I wouldn't have stirred a step if it hadn't been that I knew she didn't know any better, and I never force myself where I am not wanted; so I just took myself off."
"It was better to try and bear with my grandmother," answered Maurice, soothingly.
"And it's bearing with a bear to do it!" responded Mrs. Gratacap. "I don't mind it on my own account,—I am accustomed to all sorts of queer folks, but I suspected the old lady was up to something that would worry the poor dear, and, to be sure, I was right."
"What do you mean?" inquired Maurice, anxiously.
"Why, I couldn't help catching a word or two of what the doctor said when he went out; I just heard him say that the patient could make the voyage if it were necessary, though it would be better to keep him quiet. Mark my words, she wants to pack off, bag and baggage, at short notice,—and she'll do it! Never trust my judgment if she don't."
Mrs. Gratacap was right; one hour later, the countess, with a look which reminded Maurice, of the days when she swayed unopposed, informed him that Count Tristan had been pronounced by his physician sufficiently convalescent to bear a sea-voyage, and that she intended to leave Washington that day week, for New York, and take the first steamer that sails for Havre.
Maurice could only stammer out, "So suddenly?"
"Suddenly?" echoed the imperious lady; "it is a century to me! a century of torture! And you call it suddenly? Nothing will prevent my leaving this city in a week, and this detestable country as soon after as possible. Do you understand me?"
"I do."