“Mother dear, I don’t know,” said Paule, and she rose to depart.
“You will help me to receive her?”
“No, Mother, I don’t want to meet her.”
Madame Guibert looked at her daughter, whose pale and quivering but decided face clearly showed her thoughts.
“Paule,” she entreated, “do not desert me. I am so shy and awkward, you know. The evil that people do is more quickly forgotten than the good. If she reminded me of the past I should not know what to answer. Stay with me, Paule.”
The girl hesitated no more and made a sign to the servant to show the ladies in.
“I will stay,” she said.
Mademoiselle de Songeon, little versed in diplomacy, allowed Madame Dulaurens to speak first.
“You have been cruelly afflicted,” began that lady, going towards Madame Guibert, who was obliged to lean against the fireplace in order to rise from her chair.
Then she shook hands with Paule, whose unfriendly eyes she felt firmly upon her. She would have preferred her not to be there.