Before ringing she stopped, to quiet the beatings of her heart and to take breath. She did not raise her eyes to the window where the desperate and heart-broken Alice was crying her eyes out.
Madame Guibert was received by M. Dulaurens in the drawing-room and she saw a happy omen in this. The little insignificant man could not be expected to make much impression on her, and the meeting with him gave her a little more time to recover herself. After a few polite words which he tried to amplify as much as possible, Madame Guibert found herself unable to keep back the object of her visit any longer and said:
“You have guessed why I came to a Chênaie, Monsieur Dulaurens?” And she smiled sweetly, with that pretty, fresh smile that she had kept to old age and which was the reflection of a soul that had remained pure and unsullied.
“No, Madame Guibert, I am quite in the dark concerning it. We are greatly flattered, I assure you, by your visit. I only regret that Madame Dulaurens is not here.”
Greatly worried, and afraid to assume any disturbing responsibility, the unhappy man could not rest. He pulled the bell quickly and when the maid answered it he asked:
“Have you told Madame?”
“I am looking for her, Sir. Madame is not in her room. Madame is perhaps with Mademoiselle in Monsieur’s room.”
“Perhaps so. Go and tell her.”
And turning to Madame Guibert, trying to gain time, he said:
“It is tiresome, very tiresome, but, as you see, they are looking for her, they have gone to tell her. She will not be long. I am very sorry to keep you waiting.”