"She was such a child," she said, plaintively, almost excusingly. "Have you given her any chance to exculpate herself, my son?"
"Could any exculpation be acceptable?" he asked again, sternly.
"Where is she? What has been done to her?" she asked, anxiously.
He told her his decision, told her all that he had said to his wife in his outraged pride and wrath. She was weeping bitterly when he had finished.
"Mother, surely you do not blame me and excuse her," he said, wonderingly. "I had no thought but that you would take my part against her."
"I must see her first," she said, almost angrily in her deep earnestness. "I cannot condemn her unheard. You will let me see the child, St. Leon?"
"Of course," he answered, impatiently. "You do not suppose I would deny any wish of that kind you choose to express, mother. But to-night you are too ill and nervous. You will wait until to-morrow."
"Oh, my son, do not be angry with me—I cannot wait. Send her to me now," she wept.
"I am quite sure you had better wait until to-morrow," he began, but at that moment Mlle. Marie pushed open the door and looked in with a pale, frightened face.
"Is Mrs. Le Roy here?" she asked. "Because she is not in her room, and I cannot find her anywhere."