She gave her orders and they started.
"Think of this also," said Marcel. "You will not find the widow in tears, but at prayer. Do not allow that appearance of sanctity to encourage you as to her frame of mind. Be sure that she has noticed your absence and that she will arrange to make you undergo an examination in the very midst of her devotions. Do not forget that she hates you, and that, in order to justify herself in robbing you all that she possibly can, she will think of nothing but finding you at fault."
Julie tried to think how she could best explain the innocent escapade of the evening.
"You can find nothing better than the truth," replied Marcel. "Say that you have been at my house——"
"At your house, very good; but what about the play? Going to the play is a horrible sin in my step-mother's eyes, with or without you."
"Then—say that my wife was sick, that you are interested in my wife—because—because she has done you a service at some time—because she is charitable, and assists you in charitable work! Throw a slight varnish of piety over it; then what can she say to you?"
They reached their destination. Marcel ordered the cabman to stop; then he alighted, and Julie entered the courtyard of the hôtel D'Ormonde, on Rue de Grenelle-Saint-Germain, in a cab! That mansion belonged to the dowager D'Ormonde, who had married for her second husband the Marquis d'Estrelle, who had thereafter occupied her first husband's house with her.
The dowager was very rich; her establishment had a grand air of ceremonious inhospitality: few servants, small outlay, a frigid, deathlike splendor. The house consisted of several wings, and the mistress's apartments were located on a rear courtyard planted with trees and secured from intrusion by a wicket at which Julie had to ring and wait; but, being certain that she would be admitted, and knowing that Marcel would have to return on foot unless she sent the cab after him at once, she dismissed the cabman when she saw that the wicket was about to be opened.
Instead of opening it, the porter entered into a strange parley with her. Monsieur le marquis could not receive visitors because he was dead. The priests had come to administer the sacrament and to keep watch through the night; madame la marquise was closeted with them and the dead man. She gave audience to nobody at such times. Julie insisted to no purpose, on the ground that she was a very near relation. The porter, leaving her outside, purposely or through inadvertence, went to make inquiries, and returned to say that no member of the household was allowed access to madame.
As these negotiations had lasted a considerable time the Comtesse d'Estrelle understood perfectly well that some one had gained access to the marchioness, and that she refused to see her. Her duty was done, so she insisted no longer. She judged that her carriage, travelling much more rapidly than the cab, must have arrived: so she retraced her steps, crossed the outer courtyard and passed through the street gate, which was kept by the porter's wife and was closed behind her instantly, with indecent precipitation. A carriage was there; but Julie, notwithstanding her defective sight, saw at once that it was only a cab.