Herminie, quite overcome by so many conflicting emotions, and feeling that her presence was no longer desired, took her hat and mantle with the intention of departing at once.
The countess never took her eyes from the young girl's face. She was gazing at her daughter for the last time, perhaps, for the poor mother felt her life was nearly over now. Nevertheless she had the courage to say to Herminie in an almost unconcerned voice in order to deceive the girl as to her real condition:
"We will have our selections from 'Oberon' to-morrow, mademoiselle. You will have the goodness to come early, will you not?"
"Yes, madame la comtesse," replied Herminie.
"Show mademoiselle out, Madame Dupont, and then bring M. de Maillefort," the countess said to her maid. But as she watched her daughter move towards the door she could not help saying to her for the last time:
"Farewell, mademoiselle."
"Farewell, madame la comtesse," answered Herminie.
And it was in these formal words that these two poor, heart-broken creatures gave vent to their grief and despair at this final hour of parting.
Madame Dupont showed Herminie to the street door without taking her past the drawing-room in which M. de Maillefort was waiting. Just as the young girl was leaving, Madame Dupont said, kindly:
"You have forgotten your umbrella, mademoiselle, and you will need it, for it is a dreadful night. The rain is falling in torrents."