And as I gazed, the dream of last night recurred to me in all its charming vividness, and I felt that, far from entering upon her world but a few hours since, I had known her—aye, and loved her, too!—for years.
"Good morning, monsieur!" she said in answer to my salutation, as she rose and rested one hand on the chair-back. "It seems that your presence here has already worked a change for the better. Our good Sperver tells me that my father's condition is improved."
"I am delighted to be able to assure you that it is so, mademoiselle. We must endeavor to confirm these bettered conditions."
"I am so thankful!" she exclaimed. "Who knows but it was Providence that brought you here?" and she indicated my seat at the end of the table opposite her.
Bowing to the housekeeper, who sat before the broad fireplace, with her spectacles thrust back on her forehead, plying her busy needles, her lap filled with knitting-work which momentarily grew as she rocked back and forth in time to the ticking of the tall clock, I took the seat which Odile designated, experiencing a sense of rare contentment as I reflected upon my surroundings. Decidedly, my present employment combined pleasure with the exactions of duty.
No further mention of the Count's condition was made during the repast, Odile preferring apparently to confine herself to other subjects.
"Sperver," she said presently, "has often spoken of you to us with much pride and affection. Your relationship with the old steward is a romantic one, is it not?"
"Rather," I replied. "It began some twenty years ago with his pulling me out of a swamp into which I got myself, through my desire to imitate his custom of roaming the forest."
Then, as Odile smiled and seemed to be waiting for me to continue, I resumed:
"I distinctly remember how, one morning, I escaped the vigilance of my old nurse, Gideon's wife Gertrude, and arming myself with my father's old sabre, I sallied into the forest with a vague notion of performing some similar exploits to those which Gideon was never tired of telling me. I had not gone far when, finding the forest very dark and lonely, and quite unlike what I had fancied it, I began to repent of my resolution and to wish I was safely at home again. The sabre, too, had grown very heavy, and everything about the undertaking having fallen far short of my anticipation, I turned around and began to retrace my steps. Having only such knowledge of direction as a boy of eight would be likely to have, I soon lost my way, and in attempting to cross the swamp of the Losser by picking my path along the tufts of grass above its surface, I lost my footing and slipped into the mud. Fortunately Sperver happened to be passing in the neighborhood. He heard my cries, and promptly coming to my aid, he pulled me out and carried me to safer ground. Meanwhile my absence from home had been discovered, and the men servants had been sent in all directions to search for me. My father was so delighted at seeing me again, unharmed, in Sperver's arms, that he rewarded his ranger with a brand-new carbine and a brace of his favorite hounds."