“Do you think that one could learn more at the Spa itself if one went there?”
“Possibly. But it is so long,—twenty years ago.”
“She might have revisited the place.”
“Certainly; but I know no more.”
“Was she there under the same name,—Duval?”
“I am sure of that.”
“Do you think she left it alone or with others? You tell me she was awfully belle; she might have attracted admirers.”
“If,” answered Lebeau, reluctantly, “I could believe the report of my informant, Louise Duval left Aix not alone, but with some gallant; not an Englishman. They are said to have parted soon, and the man is now dead. But, speaking frankly, I do not think Mademoiselle Duval would have thus compromised her honour and sacrificed her future. I believe she would have scorned all proposals that were not those of marriage. But all I can say for certainty is that nothing is known to me of her fate since she quitted Aix-la-Chapelle.”
“In 1849? She had then a child living.”
“A child? I never heard that she had any child; and I do not believe she could have had any child in 1849.”