"O, come in, my dear sister," he said, springing to his feet. "Permit me to clear you a chair. I fear there is not an empty one in the room. It is rather dark—I will ring for lights."
"Please do not trouble," returned Horatia. "I only wanted to ask you a trifling question.—How far is the château of Rosdael from Kerfontaine?"
Emmanuel, already on his way to the bell, stopped, looking surprised. "Rosdael? Do you mean where old M. des Charnières used to live?"
"Used to live!" repeated Horatia like a flash. "Why do you say 'used to live'? Does he not live there now?"
"He died recently," replied the Marquis, drifting back almost unconsciously to his writing-table, the bell still unrung. "What an extraordinary thing!" he continued with fresh interest, "that you should mention him, for I have just been buying some early botanical works from the sale of his library. They are somewhere here." He stooped to one of the many piles of books on the floor.
Horatia sank on the nearest chair, book-laden as it was.
"What do you mean, Emmanuel, by 'recently'?" she asked. "Last week—last month?"
The Marquis raised himself, looking thoughtful and a little puzzled. "I think it was in August, when I was with you at Kerfontaine, though I did not hear of it till afterwards, and I was so sorry, because if I had known I might have gone over and bought——"
"Are you sure it was August?" interrupted Horatia leaning forward.
"If you want to know the exact date," said Emmanuel beginning to hunt about afresh, "I think I can find you the sale catalogue of his books. He had a wonderful collection, mostly inherited. I remember having seen him once. He was a great miser; nothing would induce him to pay his night's lodging at a hotel, so he bought a house at every stage to Paris."