‘I must protest against this discussion going further,’ said the general blandly, while in a lower tone he whispered something in her ear.
‘Very true, very true,’ said she; ‘I had forgotten all that. Monsieur de Tiernay, you will forgive me this warmth. An old woman, who has lost nearly everything in the world, may have the privilege of bad temper accorded her. We are friends now, I hope,’ added she, extending her hand, and, with a smile of most gracious meaning, beckoning to me to sit beside her on the sofa.
Once away from the terrible theme of the Revolution, she conversed with much agreeability; and her niece having reappeared, the conversation became animated and pleasing. Need I say with what interest I now regarded mademoiselle—the object of all my boyish devotion, the same whose pale features I had watched for many an hour in the dim half-light of the little chapel, her whose image was never absent from my thoughts waking or sleeping, and now again appearing before me in all the grace of coming womanhood!
Perhaps to obliterate any impression of her aunt’s severity—perhaps it was mere manner—but I thought there was a degree of anxiety to please in her bearing towards me. She spoke, too, as though our acquaintance was to be continued by frequent meetings, and dropped hints of plans that implied constant intercourse. Even excursions into the neighbourhood she spoke of; when, suddenly stopping, she said, ‘But these are for the season of spring, and before that time Monsieur de Tiernay will be far away.’
‘Who can tell that?’ said I. ‘I would seem to be forgotten by my comrades.’
‘Then you must take care to do that which may refresh their memory,’ said she pointedly; and before I could question her more closely as to her meaning, the general had risen to take his leave.
‘Madame la Marquise was somewhat more tart than usual,’ said he to me, as we ascended the cliff; ‘but you have passed the ordeal now, and the chances are, she will never offend you in the same way again. Great allowances must be made for those who have suffered as she has. Family—fortune—station—even country—all lost to her; and even hope now dashed by many a disappointment.’
Though puzzled by the last few words, I made no remark on them, and he resumed—
‘She has invited you to come and see her as often as you are at liberty; and, for my part, you shall not be restricted in that way. Go and come as you please, only do not infringe the hours of the fortress; and if you can concede a little now and then to the prejudices of the old lady, your intercourse will be all the more agreeable to both parties.’
‘I believe, general, that I have little of the Jacobin to recant,’ said I, laughing.