The princess became calm once more, as if appeased by her sweet voice, and seemed to resign herself to let Fleurange continue. She leaned her head on her hand, and listened some moments without changing her attitude.
“No,” repeated Fleurange, “I am neither perfidious nor ungrateful, and God knows what I am ready to suffer to spare you this mortification or any other!—My first thought was to go away—to flee—that you might be delivered from my presence and all the annoyance it might cause you. But, princess, that would not have been the best course. He must forget me. Therefore I must not disappear in so romantic a fashion.”
“What do you mean?” said the princess with surprise.
“That I must certainly go away, but not in a way that will induce him to pursue me. The less obstinate he is made by any appearance of opposition, the sooner I shall be effaced from his memory.”
“You understand him well,” said the princess, more and more astonished; “and you talk very coolly,” added she. “Then you do not love poor George at all?”
A moment before she had been greatly irritated at her protegée’s presumption, but now, mother-like, she seemed ready to take offence at her indifference.
A lively blush suddenly suffused Fleurange’s face, and great tears came into her eyes. “I do not love him?—My God! O my God!” murmured she in a stifled tone, “have pity on my poor heart!”
But she almost immediately regained her self-control, and the princess, more affected than she wished to appear, became attentive, and at length perceived the importance of what she was about to hear.
Fleurange then rapidly explained her design. It was the same she had formed an hour before at her cousin’s: only then she was desirous of concealing the motive and duration of her absence from the princess. Now everything was simplified; she would set out with the Steinbergs for Perugia, and afterwards find a pretext for prolonging her absence. Only it was important the princess should appear to expect her return, and, above all, should manifest no anxiety as to her son’s fidelity to his promise.
“That promise,” continued Fleurange, not without a tone of just pride, “I venture to say that M. le Comte George, in placing it under the protection of my will, was right in his conviction it would be well kept.”