This disquietude and seeming curiosity changed the affection which Mme. Fauvel had hitherto felt for her adopted daughter into positive dislike.
She regretted having placed over herself a vigilant spy from whom she could not escape. She pondered what means she could take to avoid the penetrating watchfulness of a girl who was accustomed to read in her face every thought that crossed her mind.
With unspeakable satisfaction she solved the difficulty in a way which she thought would please all parties.
During the last two years the banker’s cashier and protege, Prosper Bertomy, had been devoted in his attentions to Madeleine. Mme. Fauvel decided to do all in her power to hasten matters, so that, Madeleine once married and out of the house, there would be no one to criticise her own movements. She could then spend most of her time with Raoul without fear of detection.
That evening, with a duplicity of which she would have been incapable a few weeks before, she began to question Madeleine about her sentiments toward Prosper:
“Ah, ha, mademoiselle,” she said, gayly, “I have discovered your secret. You are going on at a pretty rate! The idea of your choosing a husband without my permission!”
“Why, aunt! I thought you——”
“Yes, I know; you thought I had suspected the true state of affairs! That is precisely what I have done.”
Then, in a serious tone, she said:
“Therefore nothing remains to be done except to obtain the consent of Master Prosper. Do you think he will grant it?”