“Perfectly so—and the best is, Adrienne does not at all suspect the doctor, who has known how, up to a certain point, to preserve her confidence. Moreover, a circumstance which appears to me inexplicable has come to our aid.”
“What do you allude to?”
“This morning, Mrs. Grivois went, according to my orders, to remind Adrienne that I expected her at noon, upon important business. As she approached the pavilion, Mrs. Grivois saw, or thought she saw, Adrienne come in by the little garden-gate.”
“What do you tell me? Is it possible? Is there any positive proof of it?” cried the marquis.
“Till now, there is no other proof than the spontaneous declaration of Mrs. Grivois: but whilst I think of it,” said the Princess, taking up a paper that lay before her, “here is the report, which, every day, one of Adrienne’s women makes to me.”
“The one that Rodin succeeded in introducing into your niece’s service?”
“The same; as this creature is entirely in Rodin’s hands, she has hitherto answered our purpose very well. In this report, we shall perhaps find the confirmation of what Mrs. Grivois affirms she saw.”
Hardly had the Princess glanced at the note, than she exclaimed almost in terror: “What do I see? Why, Adrienne is a very demon!”
“What now?”
“The bailiff at Cardoville, having written to my niece to ask her recommendation, informed her at the same time of the stay of the Indian prince at the castle. She knows that he is her relation, and has just written to her old drawing-master, Norval, to set out post with Eastern dresses, and bring Prince Djalma hither—the man that must be kept away from Paris at any cost.”