Marise glanced at him. But he did not speak the words bitterly. He was faintly smiling, though it was not precisely a gay smile. She wanted to smile back, but feared to begin again with "smiling terms," so she replied gravely that it could be quite well arranged. "I'll explain—enough—to Céline, and she'll unpack for you," the girl suggested.
"That's a kind thought!" said Garth. And then, as if satisfied with the way in which troublesome matters had shaped themselves, he got up. "I expect you'd like to have your maid in now, to help you," he suggested. "You can ring, and I'll go and have a chin with Mothereen."
Céline was lodged at a distance, but there was a bell communicating with her quarters. She came, in an excited mood.
"But it is a house of charm, Madame!" she exclaimed. (It had ceased to seem strange, now, being "Madamed" by Céline.) "Monsieur Garth—the two domestics who have for him an adoration, say he built it. And he has another place larger and more beautiful, where we go. It is, then, that Monsieur is rich."
Marise did not answer. But she would have given something to do so, out of her own knowledge. Garth and all his circumstances, and surroundings, were becoming actually mysterious to her. She was puzzled at every turn.
"You mustn't gossip with the servants here, Céline," she said.
"But no, naturally not, Madame!" protested the maid. "I will listen to all they say, and speak nothing in return. So Madame wishes the effects of Monsieur placed in this room? Parfaitement! It shall be done."
Luncheon was outwardly a happy meal. Mothereen so radiated joy in her adored one's return that Marise was infected with her gaiety of spirit. After all, life was only one adventure after another, and this was an adventure like the rest. Well, not exactly like the rest! But at least, it was not dull!
All the afternoon there were callers, and Mothereen broke it to the bride and bridegroom that, without being disagreeable, she could not avoid inviting a "few folks to dinner, and some to drop in later." "The dinner ones are our grand people," she explained to Marise, "the Mayor and his wife, and a son who is a Colonel. He has married a French wife. She is very stylish, and she'll have on her best clothes to-night. They say she's got grand jewels. But sure, they won't hold a candle to yours."
"I haven't brought many with me, I'm sorry to say," replied Marise.