"Beg pardon, monsieur; I'm sure she said it, because it surprised me; and I said to her: 'Why! is madame angry with monsieur?'"
"Oh! I recognize you there! Always inquisitive and chattering! Well, what did she say to that?"
"She said: 'That's none of your business!'—I didn't say any more."
I could not understand why Frédérique should have said what Pomponne had reported to me. If she had come often to see me without finding me, it might be conceivable; but, on the contrary, I had been more than ten times to inquire for her while she was in the country.
"No matter!" I thought; "I will go to see her to-morrow, and obtain an explanation of all this, I hope."
The next day, as soon as I had finished breakfast, I hastened to Madame Dauberny's. At last, she was at home! Her maid ushered me into her room.
I found Frédérique enveloped in a morning gown. Her lovely hair, falling in long curls on each side of her face, was without ornament. She was very pale, and her manner was cold and constrained; she greeted me with a smile that was not sincere, and said:
"Ah! is it you, Charles?"
"Yes, it is I. You came to see me yesterday, and I am extremely sorry that I was absent. But that fact does not seem to me a sufficient explanation of your saying to my servant that you would not come again. What did that mean? I have been here ten or fifteen times to see you since you went into the country, where it never once occurred to you to write me, to tell me where you were. I could not write to you, for I had no idea in what direction you had gone. But I came, nevertheless, again and again; for I could not tire of coming, when I hoped to see you!—Tell me, what is the matter? what have I done? Why are you offended? for you are offended, I can see by the cold way in which you receive me."
Frédérique listened to me attentively. She forced herself to smile and offered me her hand, saying in a faltering tone: