At that moment Madame Solde entered the room. She acknowledged Laflamme’s presence gravely.
“It is all done, madame,” he said, pointing to the portrait.
Madame Solde bowed coldly, but said: “It is very well done, monsieur.”
“It is my masterpiece,” remarked the painter pensively. “Will you permit me to say adieu, mesdames? I go to join my amiable and attentive companion, Roupet the guard.”
He bowed himself out.
Madame Solde drew Marie aside. Angers discreetly left.
The Governor’s wife drew the girl’s head back on her shoulder. “Marie,” she said, “M. Tryon does not seem happy; cannot you change that?”
With quivering lips the girl laid her head on the Frenchwoman’s breast, and said: “Ah, do not ask me now. Madame, I am going home to-day.”
“To-day? But, so soon!—I wished—”
“I must go to-day.”