The Duke came in search of Maurice to ask for Esperance. He looked a little pale but showed much interest in the fête.
"Our dear Duchess must be rewarded for all the excitement we have caused her house."
"There is no reason to suppose," said Maurice, "that all the excitement will cease after the fête!"
The Duke would not show that he had understood. Maurice went to smoke a cigarette in the garden and was hardly surprised to see the doctor, who had been attached to the service of the Duchess for twenty years, and attended all the guests in the Château, talking animatedly with the diplomat. The doctor raised his arms in a horrified gesture, letting them fall again tragically. He gave every evidence of a violent struggle with himself. The diplomat remained calm, determined, and even authoritative. The poor doctor finally yielded. The diplomat shook his hand and left him.
The doctor with an expression of great distress, walking feebly, passed by Maurice, who would have stopped him.
"No, no. What? It is impossible…. You are not ill…. Leave me, dear sir…. I … I must…"
He stammered unintelligible phrases, hastening his steps. Maurice re-entered the hall. He met the musician Xavier Flamand, who said, "I just saw the Count Styvens go out."
"At this hour?" exclaimed Montagnac, looking at the Duke.
"He has gone to meet his mother at the station. She arrives at eight o'clock. It is only seven, he will arrive half an hour too soon."
"He is a dutiful son," said Montagnac. "I am surprised that he has not taken his fiancée."