The young people led her to the foot of the stair. The carriage was waiting to take them for their drive.
The visit from the amiable Duchess rather disconcerted Albert, and Jean, and Maurice and Genevieve. Everything seemed like the warring of an implacable destiny. All four felt absolutely impotent.
The drive was stimulating. Esperance drew life at every breath. They could watch the colour coming back into her cheeks.
As the carriage came out into a clearing, the Duke de Morlay rode wildly by. His horse was covered with sweat and trembling so that he had some difficulty in mastering it. The Duke inquired for Esperance's health and decided that it must be excellent from her looks.
"But my dear Albert," he said, laughing, "you almost knocked me over this morning, however, I do not blame you, I would have done as much myself in your place. However, I must be off, my horse is fagged. I shall see you later."
And he was gone.
"How pale the Duke looked," exclaimed Esperance.
"He is fatigued, he has been riding since this morning."
"Did he not lunch with you, cousin?"
"No."