O Uncle Antoine! where were you while such a crime was being committed, fearlessly and remorselessly, under the eye of a drowsing or evil-minded Providence?
A noise on the stairs recalled Julie to herself; it was Marcel coming down to tell Julien that his mother had agreed to see Monsieur Antoine when he returned to the pavilion. Madame d'Estrelle, ashamed to be surprised in that tête-à-tête and on such extraordinarily familiar terms with the artist, hurriedly pushed the stalk of the Antonia into the light, moist earth in the pot. The Antonia seemed to have noticed nothing and preserved its freshness and beauty, Marcel entered and did not discover the catastrophe.
The countess's presence was enough of a surprise for him. She felt exceedingly shamefaced before him, and Julien observed it. He at once, with true manliness, surmounted all emotion, and with imperturbable self-possession informed Marcel that madame la comtesse had just arrived and wished to speak with his mother. At the same time he brought a chair forward for Julie, as if she had not been seated at all, then left the room to tell Madame Thierry, saluting his visitor with respectful dignity.
Madame d'Estrelle was infinitely grateful to the artist for this sudden resolution. Even that slight indication showed her that he was no child capable of compromising her by ill-timed ingenuousness, but a man fully armed and ready to protect her against all the world, to save her at need from the consequences of her own rashness. She loved him altogether for it, but she felt at the same time that he was the master of her destiny, since there was already a secret between them to be concealed from the searching glances of their common friends.
While she tried to give Marcel a rapid résumé of her conversation with Monsieur Antoine, Julien entered his mother's room. She saw such a radiant expression on his face that she cried out:
"Mon Dieu! how beautiful your eyes are this morning! What on earth has happened?"
"Madame d'Estrelle is downstairs," said Julien. "She brings you joy and comfort. She has induced Monsieur Antoine to redeem your dear little cabin. Come quickly! put up your hair and come down to thank your good angel."
Madame Thierry, surprised, overjoyed, and at the same time dismayed—for the mother's eye could not be deceived, but saw clearly the restrained passion under Julien's apparent frankness,—was so overwhelmed that she burst into tears.
"Well, well," said Julien, "what does this mean? Poor mother! you are so stout-hearted in misfortune; can't you endure joy? Come, let your hair hang down, if you can't put it up and come down just as you are. Madame d'Estrelle will see you weeping for joy, and that will not make her feel hurt, I promise you!"
"Julien! Julien! there is pain blended with my pleasure! yes, and fear too!"