"That is more than likely, my dearest child," replied the baroness, smiling, "though no one ever speaks of M. de Maillefort as one's good angel."
"I do not recollect to have heard her say anything either good or bad about M. de Maillefort," answered the orphan. "I merely remember the name."
"And the name is that of a veritable ogre," said the baron, spitefully.
"But if M. de Maillefort is so objectionable, why do you receive him, madame?" inquired the orphan, hesitatingly.
"Ah, my dear child, in society one is obliged to make many concessions, particularly when a person of M. de Maillefort's birth is concerned."
Then addressing the baron, she added:
"It is impossible to prolong the meal farther, for coffee has been served in the drawing-room."
Madame de la Rochaiguë arose from the table. The baron, concealing his annoyance as best he could, offered his arm to his ward, and the entire party returned to the drawing-room where M. de Maillefort was waiting.
The marquis had so long been accustomed to concealing his love for Madame de Beaumesnil,—the one passion of his life, but one which she alone had divined,—that, on seeing Ernestine, he betrayed none of the interest he felt in her. He remembered, too, not without annoyance, that it would be necessary to appear curt and sarcastic before the orphan, as any sudden change in his manner or language would be sure to arouse the suspicions of the Rochaiguës, and, in order to protect Ernestine from them, and, perhaps, even from herself, or, in other words, to carry out her mother's last wishes, he must carefully refrain from exciting the distrust of those around her.
M. de Maillefort, who was endowed with remarkably acute powers of perception, noted, with a pang of real anguish, the unpleasant impression his appearance seemed to make upon Ernestine; for the latter, still under the influence of the slanders that had been heaped upon him, had involuntarily shuddered, and averted her gaze from his distorted form.