Genevieve and Esperance came in together. The contrast of this double entry was striking. Genevieve, dark, with regular features, framed by a mass of heavy black hair; Esperance, shell pink, aureoled by her wavy blonde hair. Genevieve was so beautiful that Maurice was moved. Esperance was so dazzling that the Count mentally praised God at the sight of her. He was warmly thanked for his pretty flowers, several blossoms of which each girl had pinned to her dress.
When the fish appeared, Maurice rose gravely.
"This magnificent fish, sir," he said to Albert Styvens, "was caught by me for you; it is for you to decide whether to share it with us or whether you prefer to eat it alone."
The young attaché arose and with more humour than they expected from him, took the platter and bowed with it towards Mme. Darbois. The conversation raced merrily along, and they were soon disputing about sports. The Count learned that Esperance rode on horseback. He was delighted, and inquired if he would be able to procure a mount. Jean offered his, but the Count, who knew of his love for Esperance and divined what a joy these excursions must be to him, refused this sacrifice. The farmer's wife, who helped to wait at table and was ignorant of social customs, forthwith entered the conversation.
"Ah! if Madame will permit me, I can bring you to the Commandant, who has a fine horse to sell."
"You may have no fish this evening," said the professor genially. "As
I was away meeting you, I could not put out my net."
"But we did it, father," said Esperance, "and I hope that Count
Styvens will have some magnificent luck. We go fishing this evening."
"So, you are a fisherwoman too, Mademoiselle?"
"We fish every morning, and we shall be very glad to have you join us," said the girl quietly.
After lunch the Count joined the four young people in a ramble along the cliffs. Esperance and Genevieve went arm in arm, the three young men followed; with Styvens in a dream of delight, happier than he had ever been in his life. Maurice was watching Genevieve every day seeing her more beautiful, and abandoning himself without much effort to this new passion. Jean Perliez contemplated Esperance and smiled sadly, if gladly too, at the thought that she was going to be delivered from the dangerous Duke de Morlay-La-Branche. They sat down on a high rock overlooking the little beach of Penhouet and remained silent for a while.