“Ah, that is exactly what I say to my sister,” said Félicie, cheering up. “I assure her that if she only will have faith, things must come right, and our dear Léon be cleared. Claire, do you hear what Monsieur Georges thinks?”
“Monsieur Georges is very good,” said Claire, with quivering voice. “I am sure he has always wished us well. But whether he is cleared or not, the disgrace, the dreadful blot on our family remains, for nothing can remove the fact that a Baron de Beaudrillart has been arrested for—for stealing.” Her voice grew hoarse, and the last words almost choked her. M. Georges, simple soul as he was, knew enough of the world to be startled by such an assertion.
“Oh, mademoiselle,” he exclaimed, sitting on the edge of his chair, his hat clasped in front of him, “you are not serious! The best and noblest person who ever lived might meet with such a misfortune as has overtaken monsieur le baron, and far from being a blot, it would be no more than an added reason for our respect. If I might—might presume to say so, I think you exaggerate the misfortune.”
Félicie expected her sister’s anger to be raised by this unusual plain-speaking, but she only sighed.
“Unfortunately, you do not know all; but we are, I assure you, very grateful for your kindness. I believe you are aware that I have always been convinced that you were my brother’s best adviser.”
Monsieur Georges felt his face glow. He had suffered a good deal of humiliation from Mme. de Beaudrillart, and had never expected to have his services acknowledged with gratitude by any member of the family. He hesitated, stammered, and broke into an almost incoherent reply, staring hard at his hat.
“Oh, mademoiselle—if I could think so! such kindness—impossible to forget!” Then recovering himself, he added, with more self-composure, “You will at least permit me to ask whether there is no way in which I could have the privilege of being of use! Through the kindness of a grandparent I have succeeded to a small inheritance, which places me in an independent position. I only venture to trouble you with this information because it—it might remove any generous scruples from your mind. Nothing, mesdemoiselles,”—he bowed first to one and then to the other—“would gratify me so much as to be permitted to serve you and monsieur le baron. Shall I fly to Paris! Can I take anything off your hands here? Command me. I am absolutely at your disposal.”
On Mlle. Claire’s heart, hot and sore, this respectful homage, unchanged by the circumstances which to her had changed the world, fell like the very dew of heaven. If her sister had not been there, she would have offered him her hand to kiss; but as it was, she spoke with a strangely softened voice.
“Do not think us ungrateful. Believe me, your kindness will be always remembered. There is nothing to be done at present. Monsieur Rodoin,”—M. Georges bowed—“and Maître Barraud,”—he bowed still lower—“are in charge of the case. I trust they may be successful, but as I have already said, such a blow cannot be wiped out even by an acquittal. It has shattered my mother, so that her state causes us the greatest uneasiness. Will you allow me to offer you some refreshment!”
He stood up, held his hat to his chest, and bowed profoundly.