The Idol of Paris Part 33

"It was very simple," explained Maurice. "You stayed too long with your head hanging down during the rehearsal, and as you were tired it made you ill. Albert brought you here and you have been asleep for five hours. Now you are your charming self again. We will leave you so that you can dress, and then if you feel like it we will take you for a drive."

"I will be very quick; in ten minutes I will be with you."

The young people did not know what to think. It would now be very difficult to suggest that Esperance should withdraw from the fete, as apparently every trace of her indisposition had disappeared.

Then Albert spoke:

"I am going to ask Esperance to give up appearing at this performance as a favour to me," he said. "I shall contribute largely to the charitable fund, and we can go back to Penhouet."

He had hardly finished speaking when Esperance came into the little salon.

"Here I am you see and the ten minutes is not yet up!"

A discreet tap at the door made them all turn round. The Dowager d.u.c.h.ess appeared.

"Ah! my dear child, what a joy to see you so restored."

"I must apologize, Madame, for the trouble I gave you. It is all over, all over," she said, shaking her pretty head; "and I am as well as possible."

"I am more than delighted," said the d.u.c.h.ess, sitting down. "You have no idea, my dear Albert, of the perfect disaster Esperance's absence would have caused. She is the star of our bill, as they say, and on whom we all rely. You know that my son wants to be elected Deputy, and this fete will secure him the votes of the whole community. More than fifteen hundred people have taken tickets. The local livery stable men count on making a fortune. All the villagers are getting their rooms ready to let. If that adorable child had failed us nothing could have made it up to them, and my son would have been ruined."

She rose up.

"But," she added, with the sweet smile that won all hearts, "you see me so happy, so rea.s.sured, that you must all be joyful with me."

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 d.u.c.h.ess 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 f.a.gged. 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."

"Why did he go away in such haste?"

"You are too curious."

Then, looking hard at her, "Perhaps he thought, like the good d.u.c.h.ess, that your weakness was serious, and that all his little arrangements were going to fall through."

"I understand that the d.u.c.h.ess cared, since the election of her son is at stake, but the Duke, how would it affect him?"

Albert sitting opposite her in the carriage, looked her full in the face.

"Perhaps he will never find another opportunity to pay his court to you."

"Whew, that is straightforward bluntness for you!" thought Maurice.

Esperance grew red. The recollection of what had happened began to come back little by little. She closed her eyes to be able to think more clearly. Albert left her in her silence a minute, then he said, "We had planned to carry you away to-day, but you heard what the d.u.c.h.ess said just now. I feel bound by the confidence of that old friend to remain. My fate is in your pretty hands. Be circ.u.mspect with the Duke. Frank, and loyal with your fiance."

And he took her hands, in a long kiss.

The coachman was told to turn around, for it was getting late. The horses set off at a trot.

Nothing more was said between them, about the Duke.

After dinner, the Duke arose, and announced, "The fete will be the day after to-morrow. We have only rehea.r.s.ed once, and then, not in full. I feel somewhat responsible for the exhaustion of our little star. Her head, hanging down, was so beautiful, that I thought only of the pose, without realizing how painful it must have become to the artist. I ask Mile. Darbois' pardon. Also, I should like another stage director. I propose M. Maurice Renaud, our ingenious collaborator, to whom we owe our magnificent costumes, and originality of our decorations."

Everyone applauded, and Maurice was proclaimed director of the fete.

"I thank you, and accept", he said simply.

He thought, "That is his way of getting rid of me."

"I hope, my dear Director," continued the Duke, "that you will make us rehea.r.s.e hard to-morrow. If anything goes wrong we shall still have the morning of the following day, for the fete does not begin until half-past two."

Maurice rose, and in a comical tone announced, "Ladies, gentlemen, and artists, I beg you to be prompt for a rehearsal of the tableaux vivants to-morrow at ten o'clock. Any artist who is late, will pay a fine of a hundred francs, to the poor of the d.u.c.h.ess." And as they laughingly protested, "There is a quarter of an hour's grace accorded as in the theatres, but not one instant more. My stage-manager is empowered to collect the fines."

They followed the action of the d.u.c.h.ess and rose from their seats. The Duke went over to Maurice.

"I would like to talk over some of the details with you. They must interest us, but they mean nothing to the others. A cigarette?"

They strolled to the end of the terrace. A pretty Chinese umbrella sheltered a delightful nook. The Duke and Maurice dropped into easy chairs.

"Will you give me your word that what I am going to say to you will be for you alone; that you will not repeat it?"

The young man refused, "How can I give my word without even knowing the subject of your confidences?"

"It concerns your cousin."

"Then it concerns Count Styvens."

"Indirectly, yes."

Maurice got up.

"I would rather not listen to you, for my duty as a man of honour would compel me to speak, should it be necessary."