"Yes, I feel grave,—I have something to accomplish, and I greatly need, but fear to claim, your aid."
"Mine? What lion is there in a net that needs such a poor, wee mouse as I to gnaw the meshes?"
"No lion already in the snare, but a lioness to be lured into our net. Bertha, do you truly love Mademoiselle Madeleine?"
"What a question!"
"Do you love her so well that your love for her could surmount your dread of your aunt?"
"Yes, that is, I think it could. What would you have me do?"
"Follow the noble example of Maurice; tell Madame de Gramont that you will not return to Brittany with her unless Maurice and Mademoiselle Madeleine return also. She detests this country, and the fear of being compelled to remain here will conquer her."
"But how could I do this?" questioned Bertha, feeling that she had not firmness for the task. "I have promised to go with her. What excuse could I offer?"
"The excuse," answered her lover, "that you could not travel with her alone."
"Alone?"