Mme. Poussette left her chair and approached the lady of the Manor, but nothing more than a fleeting contemptuous glance did the latter bestow. At the sight of Henry and the cats all her courage returned and a measure of her temper.
"I was sent for and I am here," she said, advancing to the middle of the room with not a shred of kindness in her manner. Was it not as it had always been—hateful, uncongenial, difficult? Why must she feign hypocritical interest and sympathy? "And I know why you sent for me, but I tell you, Henry, it is of no use. I will promise nothing."
The seigneur moved heavily from his side to his back and weakly opened his small eyes upon her. It was evident that he was clear in his mind.
"You were sent for and you are here," he repeated, "but you did not wish to come. Did not Nature work within you, bidding you come? Did not sisterly love, sweet kinship, weigh with you at all?"
"Not in the least," replied Miss Clairville coldly. She continued to stand, although the other woman proffered a chair, nor did she unfasten her fur coat or draw off her gloves. Her brother took note of this.
"You had better sit," he murmured.
"I will not! In this room—you know I have never sat here since——
You know the vow I made. And why."
"I know, my sister, I know. Nevertheless, sit now."
Father Rielle turned half round. "Sit, my daughter. It will not be for long."
And from Dr. Renaud came the sharp order: "Sit—at once."