About that time he was obliged to go and spend two days at Evreux. He was worried about the work in hand at the bishop’s palace. He had yielded to the bishop’s desires without a credit having been opened for the purpose, and the construction of the range for the new kitchens and of the heating apparatus threatened to amount to a very large figure, which it would be impossible to include in the cost of repairs. Besides that, the pulpit, for which three thousand francs had been granted, would come to ten thousand at least. He wished to talk the matter over with the bishop, so as to take certain precautions.
Rose was only expecting him to return on the Sunday night. He arrived in the middle of lunch, and his sudden entrance caused quite a scare. Gasparine was seated at the table, between Octave and Angèle. They pretended to be all at their ease; but there reigned a certain air of mystery. Lisa had closed the drawing-room door at a despairing gesture from her mistress, whilst the cousin kicked beneath the furniture some pieces of paper that were lying about.
When Campardon talked of changing his things, they stopped him.
“Wait a while. Have a cup of coffee, as you lunched at Evreux.”
At length, as he noticed Rose’s embarrassment, she went and threw her arms around his neck.
“My dear, you must not scold me. If you had not returned till this evening, you would have found everything straight.”
She tremblingly opened the doors, and took him into the drawingroom and the study. A mahogany bedstead, brought that morning by a furniture dealer, occupied the place of the drawing-table, which had been moved into the middle of the adjoining room; but as yet nothing had been put straight; portfolios were knocking about amongst some of Gasparine’s clothes; the Virgin with the Bleeding Heart was lying against the wall, kept in position by a new wash-stand.
“It was a surprise,” murmured Madame Campardon, her heart bursting, as she hid her face in her husband’s waistcoat.
He, deeply moved, looked about him. He said nothing, and avoided encountering Octave’s eyes. Then, Gasparine asked, in her sharp voice:
“Does it annoy you, cousin? It is Rose who pestered me. But, if you think I am in the way, it is not too late for me to leave.”