“Margot,” said a weak voice from the bed. “Margot, I’m very hungry.”
Margot gave a little sob of delight. He was to have chicken to-day. Her face clouded over a little when she remembered the price of chicken. Never mind, there was still the best bedstead; she had not meant to pawn that if she could help it; but she could not help it. So she thanked God, and ran to get Jean’s breakfast.
CHAPTER XVI
LIANE did not use empty threats. She was, as she was fond of proclaiming, a good-natured woman, and she never went out of her way to do anyone harm unless she meant to. Margot and Jean had defied her and disappeared, and she was willing for the moment to let the matter rest there. But they made the mistake of reappearing. She read notices of Margot’s singing and she heard from her friends in the musical world that her little Baron was achieving something. He had played for one of Torialli’s pupils, he was getting a name as an accompanist; and he was still with Margot. This she gathered directly from Margot’s ill-spelt appeal to her. She was gratified by the appeal, and she would have been immensely touched by Jean’s death. Jean, however, did not die—he went so far as to recover without renewing the appeal.
“One must do something,” said Liane, during the temporary absence of one of Jean’s successors. “I will call upon the uncle.”
Madame de Brances found Romain at home and alone. Madame, the servants told her at the door, was away for a week, the Comte, however, had not accompanied her, he had a slight indisposition, but he would most certainly see Madame.
Romain’s indisposition was of so slight a nature that it only consisted of an inability to do what he disliked. He told Madame de Brances that the thought of a country visit had made him ill, and that the only remedy which suggested itself to him was to remain in town.
“For me,” said Liane, lifting her eyes to the ceiling, “I adore the country!”
“So I should suppose,” agreed Romain with his enigmatical smile. “Madame gives me that impression.”
“If my life would only permit,” continued Madame de Brances, “I would stay there for months at a time. How it would rest me! I can imagine days in the green fields—it brings tears to my eyes.”