Hélène said no more. The young woman’s unconcern displeased her. She felt anger growing within her as she observed how calm and collected Juliette was, when she herself had endured such intense agony since the night before. At one moment she was on the point of rising and letting things take their course. It was exceedingly foolish of her to wish to save this woman; her nightmare began once more; her hands slipped into her pocket, and finding the letter there, clasped it in a feverish grasp. Why should she have any care for the happiness of others, when they had no care for her and did not suffer as she did?
“Oh! capital, capital,” exclaimed Juliette of a sudden.
Madame Berthier’s head was now reclining on Madame de Guiraud’s shoulder, and she was declaring through her sobs: “‘I am sure that he loves her; I am sure of it!’”
“Your success will be immense,” said Juliette. “Say that once more: ‘I am sure that he loves her; I am sure of it.’ Leave your head as it is. You’re divine. Now, Madame de Guiraud, your turn.”
“‘No, no, my child, it cannot be; it is a caprice, a fancy,’” replied the stout lady.
“Perfect! but oh, the scene is a long one, isn’t it? Let us rest a little while. We must have that incident in proper working order.”
Then they all three plunged into a discussion regarding the arrangement of the drawing-room. The dining-room door, to the left, would serve for entrances and exits; an easy-chair could be placed on the right, a couch at the farther end, and the table could be pushed close to the fireplace. Hélène, who had risen, followed them about, as though she felt an interest in these scenic arrangements. She had now abandoned her idea of eliciting an explanation, and merely wished to make a last effort to prevent Juliette from going to the place of meeting.
“I intended asking you,” she said to her, “if it isn’t to-day that you mean to pay Madame de Chermette a visit?”
“Yes, this afternoon.”
“Then, if you’ll allow me, I’ll go with you; it’s such a long time since I promised to go to see her.”