How? She did not ask herself that question; for she was yet in that first stage of enthusiasm, when we are full of heroic resolves which do not allow us to see the obstacles that are to be overcome. But she soon learned to know the first difficulties in her way, thanks to Dame Chevassat, who brought her her dinner as the clock struck six, according to the agreement they had made.
The estimable lady had assumed a deeply grieved expression; you might have sworn she had tears in her eyes. In her sweetest voice, she asked:—
“Well, well, my beautiful young lady; so you have quarrelled with our dear M. Maxime?”
Henrietta was so sure of the uselessness of replying, and so fearful of new dangers, that she simply replied,—
“Yes, madam.”
“I was afraid of it,” replied the woman, “just from seeing him come down the stairs with a face as long as that. You see, he is in love with you, that kind young man; and you may believe me when I tell you so, for I know what men are.”
She expected an answer; for generally her eloquence was very effective with her tenants. But, as no reply came, she went on,—
“We must hope that the trouble will blow over.”
“No!”
Looking at Mrs. Chevassat, one would have thought she was stunned.