"Mademoiselle is generally so sweet to everyone," she said to herself. "I never saw her so nervous and reserved before, I wonder what can have happened. However, it is no business of mine." And she went downstairs to discuss the affair with the cook.
Poor Renée trembled all over, and a deep sigh escaped her as soon as she was alone.
"I know my father has only sent for me to make me promise to marry some horrid man. It must be for some such reason. What else could he want me for? Oh dear, oh dear, why cannot he leave me in peace? I am so happy here."
"I wonder who he can have in his mind? I am certain it cannot be anyone really nice, all his male friends are such horrid people."
For a long time she lay down in a kind of stupor, until at length her maid knocked at the door, and informed her that the carriage was waiting. Hurriedly putting on her hat and cloak, she ran downstairs, and drove off to her father's house.
The clock had just struck five as she entered the vestibule and handed her card to the portier.
The moment she was ushered into the sitting-room her father rose to receive her.
"Well, my child," said Monsieur Payot, closing the door after she had taken off her things, "sit down and let me talk to you quietly."
Renée sat down, and her father beat a tattoo on the table with his fingers, as if he were calling up his troops before charging the enemy.