She left him with as little ceremony as she had greeted him; and, with all the gladness taken from the bright summer afternoon, he went sadly on his way.
Miss Gastonguay was not an old woman, yet she was breaking up. The discovery that her long-lost brother, whom she had hoped was dead, was living as a prey upon society had humbled her pride and broken her spirit. The black shadow of disgrace hung continually over her, and Justin uneasily wondered whether he had done right to give her the shock that had eaten the heart and comfort out of her life.
He thought he had. He had fulfilled his duty; he had kept his promise to the unhappy man who wished his daughter to come under the protection of the sister so long separated from him. This had afforded Miss Gastonguay the consolation of Derrice, and a day might come, a day would come, he feared, when her ministrations and forgiveness might be needed for the wanderer himself. It was better for a woman of her temperament to have time to brood over a matter than to have it suddenly announced to her.
Then, too, in spite of her trouble, she had become softened,—more womanly, less hard,—and she had gained either an additional devotion, or a wonderful simulation of it, from her elder niece, the one upon whom she had lavished her wealth and affection for so many years.
Derrice's sudden establishment of empire over Miss Gastonguay had struck a spark of jealousy from Chelda's cold heart. To counterbalance this influence she had partly abandoned her selfish and solitary mode of life, and had given herself up to her aunt. To please her she cultivated Derrice; to please her she shunned the summer visitors among whom she usually found congenial associates. True, she was possibly becoming more deceitful; but if she were, Justin could not help it. He had done what he thought was right, and he must patiently await results. It was an involved affair. Only one thing was clear; and, as he went quickly on his way, his horse's hoofs seemed to beat from the hard and stony ground the inexorable words: "Retribution, retribution,—for one man's sin many must suffer."
Upon reaching home, he made haste to deliver Miss Gastonguay's invitation, lest any member of the family should make other arrangements for the day mentioned.
His mother was tranquilly pleased, Derrice was delighted; for Miss Gastonguay had, since the summer began, shown a perverse inclination to keep to herself, and, although glad to see her at French Cross, had not favoured her with many special invitations.
Captain White was non-committal until urged by his wife to make some response. "Of course I'll go," he then said. "Haven't I been longing for a small picnic all summer? I hate those caravans of things where food and people are all jumbled up together."
Accordingly, after an early dinner on Thursday, the Mercer-White household set out in an electric car for French Cross.
They found Miss Gastonguay waiting for them on the steps of the château. "Chelda isn't going," she said. "Some tiresome person is coming to see her."