CHAPTER LIV.

AN UNEXPECTED VISIT.

Another week passed on. The day preceding that on which the countess and her party were to set out on their journey had arrived. All the necessary preparations were progressing duly.

Maurice, from the hour that he had learned Madeleine's secret, had lived in such a dream of absolute happiness that he felt as though he could ask for nothing more,—as though the cup presented to his lips was too full of joy for the one, ungrateful drop of an unfulfilled desire to find room. He comprehended Madeleine's character too thoroughly,—respected all her instincts and principles of action too entirely, again to urge his suit, or seek to obtain her promise that she would one day be his; she was his in spirit,—he could openly recognize her as his,—that sufficed! and he believed it would still suffice (if her sense of duty remained unaltered) through his whole earthly existence; for all his days would be brightened by her love, and the privilege of loving her.

Bertha, after her first, petulant outbreak, had also ceased to press Madeleine on the subject of her possible marriage, and with meek demureness reconciled herself to the uncertainty of the future, and the certainty of tormenting her lover in the present.

M. de Bois's devotion to Madeleine sealed his lips. Madeleine had formed a resolution which she declared unalterable. Bertha had announced a determination dependent upon Madeleine's, and the suitors of the two cousins had only to submit and hope.

The labor of packing Madame de Gramont's wardrobe, as well as that of Bertha, devolved upon Adolphine; she had not quite filled the trunks of her young mistress when she was summoned by the countess. This was on the morning of the day preceding the one appointed for their departure. Adolphine was heedless and forgetful to a tantalizing degree. The countess deemed herself compelled to superintend her movements; that is to sit in an arm-chair and look on; the lofty lady would not have deigned to assist by touching an article, though she now and then issued an order or indulged in a rebuke, and by her presence greatly retarded Adolphine's operations.

Count Tristan had driven out every day. His mother and Maurice always accompanied him. This morning, when Maurice went to announce to his grandmother that the carriage was at the door, he found her watching Adolphine, who was on her knees before an open trunk.

"It will be impossible for me to accompany you to-day," said the countess. "I will speak to your father; it will be his last drive, and he must excuse me."

She rose and passed into the drawing-room where Count Tristan was waiting.