”‘No,’ said Nanette, ‘for if the Marquis were still there he might hear of it, and he would suspect his sister was again making some plan without telling him, which he would only oppose—he is so obstinate. No, I think you had better ask for Marguerite, and judge for yourself. But Pierre, I have faint hopes,’ and Nanette’s face grew very grave, ‘very small hope that you will find things as they were in the Rue de Lille. Had they still been so I feel sure the Countess would have written—and, indeed, I do not think she would have remained there all this time without making some other effort to get away.’
”‘She may have written,’ said Pierre; ‘letters miscarry so in these days.’
”‘If she dared write I am sure she will have done so,’ said Nanette, ‘unless,’ and the young woman shuddered. ‘No, do not let us think the worst; only it is sometimes impossible not to remember all I heard there. But again, if the Countess is in disguise somewhere, you see she would not dare to write for fear her letter might be traced, and would betray who she was.’
”‘Should I know Mademoiselle Edmée, again if I saw her, do you think?’ asked Pierre.
”‘Oh yes, I think so; she has grown tall, of course, but still she has the same face. Indeed, she is still very like the dear little picture. My lady never has it out of her sight. It hangs in her room in Paris just as it did here.’
”‘Many a time my mother and I have wished they had left it at the Château,’ said Pierre with a smile; ‘it would have been some consolation.’
”‘Ah, yes; that I understand,’ said Nanette.
“But then Pierre started up.
”‘I must be off,’ he said. ‘I mean to get over a good piece of ground before the day is old.’
”‘But you are not going on foot? You have some money with you, surely?’ said Madame Delmar anxiously.