"You are a thousand times too good, madame; but I really should fear to put you to so much inconvenience," said Paula, with inexpressible anguish. She felt, that on her consent hung the fate of the future to herself, De Morville, Bertha, and Arnold; for as Iris had anticipated, without at the same time foreseeing this incident, she felt that events were hurrying on with fearful rapidity.
"Be generous, madame," said De Brévannes. "We will endeavour to amuse you; we will have some real ladies' sport. I have good ferrets, and if you never saw ferreting, it will amuse you greatly. The weather is very mild this winter, and I can promise you some torchlight fishing. Then I have a well-stocked preserve of does and kids, and you will see them caught in the toils. I should say there is nothing barbarous in this, for the victims are taken alive. I know, madame, that these are but rustic and simple amusements; but the very contrast they offer with a Paris life during winter may make them piquant; and then, after having tried these, you will perhaps find more enjoyment in your return to the gay pleasures of high society."
"Believe me, sir," replied Paula, with increasing and deeper anxiety, "this party of pleasure so suddenly proposed would be most agreeable, for I should thus enjoy the society of Madame de Brévannes: but I really fear that she only consents to this impromptu journey out of complaisance to me."
"Oh, no, madame! I assure you I should be highly delighted—have extreme gratification——"
Again the important effect caused by a petty cause.
Bertha uttered these words with such an expression of pleasure and joy—the look she exchanged at the moment with Arnold (a look rapidly intercepted by Paula) betrayed a passion so profound, so ineffable, so radiant, that all the snakes of envy and rage gnawed at Madame de Hansfeld's heartstrings.
Paula herself loved with passion, with intoxication, but her love could never be prosperous. The sight of a happiness which was forbidden her redoubled her anger. She recalled the almost contemptuous malevolence with which De Brévannes, De Hansfeld, and Bertha, had spoken of De Morville, and she included them all three in the same sentiment of hate. At this moment of intense exasperation, the more violent as it was repressed, she accepted the offer of De Brévannes, and said to Bertha, in a voice whose emotion she perfectly controlled,—
"Well, madame, at the risk of being really troublesome, by complying with your friendly pressing, I accept."
"How kind of you, madame!" was Bertha's reply.
"And when shall we set out, M. de Brévannes?" asked the prince, unable to conceal his joy. "I shall make quite a fête of my sporting."