XXIII
Mme. Bourjot had just arrived with her daughter at the Mauperins'. She kissed Renée and sat down by Mme. Mauperin on the sofa near the fire.
"My dears," she said, turning to the two girls, who were chattering together on the other side of the room, "suppose you were to let your mothers have a little talk together. Will you take Noémi out in the garden a little, Renée? I give her over to you."
Renée put her arm round Noémi and pulled her along with her, skipping as she went. In the hall she caught up a Pyrenees hood that was lying on a chair and threw it over her head, put on some little overshoes, and ran out into the garden, rushing along like a child, and keeping her arm round her friend all the time.
"There's a secret—a secret. Do you know what the secret is?" she exclaimed, stopping suddenly short and quite out of breath.
Noémi looked at her with her large, sad eyes and did not answer.
"You silly girl!" said Renée, kissing her. "I've guessed it—I caught a few words—mamma lets everything out. It's about his lordship, my brother. There now!"
"Let's sit down—shall we? I'm so tired." And Noémi took her seat on the garden bench, just where her mother had sat on the night of the theatricals.
"Why, you are crying! What's the matter?" exclaimed Renée, sitting down by her. Noémi let her head fall on her friend's shoulder and burst into tears, that were quite hot as they fell on Renée's hand.
"What is it, tell me—answer me—speak, Noémi—come now, Noémi dear!"