At last they were all three on their feet again, and she and Dora were moving to the drawing-room, where she would be able to speak freely to her sister, perhaps, and ease her mind.
"We will leave you to your cigar, General," said Dora, taking the lead into the doorway.
The General bowed, and, when they had gone, he seated himself again, lit a cigar, and fell into a reverie.
As soon as Dora reached the drawing-room, she threw herself into her sister's arms. "I am so glad that you came this evening," she said. "Eva is not at all well. The dear child seems to get less and less strong as she grows older. I often feel quite concerned about her. She has been feverish all day to-day, and you know that when she has the slightest ailment, she always wants auntie to nurse her. The very sight of your cap and apron is as potent as a soothing draught, I do believe. I have just sent a servant to the hospital to know if I can keep you till to-morrow morning—and I was glad to have you make a third at dinner this evening, Philip being absent. It was an inspiration that brought you to the house ... but you look quite depressed; your face, usually so cheerful, so gay, is sad. You seemed strange all through dinner. Now, what is the matter?"
Gabrielle looked at Dora strangely. For a long time she hesitated before answering, then, seeing that Dora seemed to insist, she looked her sister straight in the face, and said—
"Dora, dear, why is General Sabaroff dining here to-night when Philip is away from home? There, since you insist, it is out."
Dora felt offended, but did not betray her feeling.
"Ah, you see," she said, smiling, "I knew there was something troubling you. Well, you must know that, a few days ago, Philip invited General Sabaroff to dine with us to-night quite en famille and he accepted. The day before yesterday, Philip received a letter calling him to Paris immediately, on business connected with the shell—his invention, you know. He set out by the morning train that very day, telling me to expect him back about five o'clock to-day, and I cannot account for his not having returned yet. I had a letter from him this morning in which he said that the matter was settled yesterday, and that he would take the nine o'clock train from Paris this morning. I had suggested putting off General Sabaroff, but he would not hear of my doing that, as he was sure of arriving home three hours before dinner. Now, don't look at me any longer with that tragedy air or you'll upset my gravity, dear. One would think you suspected me of arranging a tête-à-tête dinner with the man. Haven't I already told you how glad I was that you came in time to sit down with us? But how absurd all this is! One would really imagine I was here on my defence. Enough of this nonsense! And now, before General Sabaroff has finished his smoke, I will run up and see how my darling is and tell her that you are here."
"Dora, one moment; I must speak to you, I feel I must. Do not be offended with me, nor think me prying and foolish, will you, if I seem to meddle in what you may say does not concern me; but, dear, I cannot keep it to myself any longer. It makes me so miserable to see what is going on in this house—tell me, what does it all mean? You do not answer me, you dare not tell me the truth."
"My dear sister," said Dora, "I have nothing to hide from you." And she added, with sudden resolution, looking Gabrielle straight in the face, "Love has deserted the house—that is the truth, a truth which will soon kill me, I hope."