It was very disconcerting and brought home to me more forcibly than ever that I must prepare to go.
I thought a good deal about the Comtesse. If I were uneasy about her she certainly was about me. Perhaps some gossip had reached her. It must have, since she had seen fit to give me her twofold warning.
She was certainly right. Iought to get away. In fact I should not have stayed so long. Nor could I have done, I justified myself, if Margot had not been so unhappy every time I suggested leaving.
I did not want to talk to Margot. I was afraid she would bring up the subject. Not that it was difficult to avoid it.
Margot was too full of her own affairs to want to discuss anyone else’s.
Nevertheless, I had taken to going out alone, usually in the garden, and finding some quiet spot where I could be alone to think.
When I had been with the Comtesse I had felt guilty. Yet I had done nothing to attract the Comte. Nou-Nou had a way of looking at me from under her bushy brows as though I were Jezebel herself. She made me feel that I should get away without delay, even before Margot’s wedding.
It was an impossible situation and had it been presented to me as someone else’s problem a year ago I should have said: “The woman is doing wrong by staying. Any decent person would leave at once.”
Of course it was what I should do. My interview with the Comtesse had brought that home more vividly than before.
I had walked beyond the castle precincts and found myself close to Gabrielle’s house. His mistress! And she lived near the chateau so that they could meet conveniently. I flushed with shame. And this was the man whom I had allowed to take possession of my thoughts!
I was startled by the sound of horse’s hoofs. I went close to the hedge as a rider passed by. There was something familiar about him, although I could not think what.
Gabrielle’s house came into view. The man was tethering his horse to the block at her gate. As I came along he turned and we looked full at each other. He looked a little startled and in that flash it was obvious that we were both thinking that we had seen each other somewhere before.
He opened the gate and went up the park to the house. I walked on.
Then my heart started to thump with apprehension. I had remembered who the man was.
He was Gaston the lover of Jeanne the servant at Madame Gremond’s.
I did not mention to Margot the tact that I had seen Gaston. It could only disturb her. I even tried to convince myself that I had been mistaken. After all, I had not seen a great deal of the man when we were at Madame Gremond’s. This could have been someone who bore a resemblance to him.
There was no real distinguishing feature about him. What should he have been doing at Madame LeGrand Taking letters from his mistress?
Was it possible then that Madame Gremond and Madame LeGrand knew each other? Of course it was possible. Their connecting link would be the Comte. Two discarded mistresses condoling with each other. Or perhaps not discarded? It was becoming more and more sordid every day.
But I could not, of course, be sure of this and I preferred to think I had made a mistake.
While I was pondering on this, Etienne came to me and told me that his mother had expressed the wish that I should call on her again and he wondered whether I would allow him to take me to her.
I said I should be delighted to call and a few days later, one afternoon, I rode with him to her house.
I was taken into the ornate salon where she was waiting to receive me, very elegant but slightly overdressed in pale blue silk and lace.
“Mademoiselle Maddox,” she cried warmly, ‘how enchanted I am to see you. It was good of you to call. “
“I am pleased to be asked,” I replied, glad as I had often been of my well-cut riding habit which my mother had had made for me. The fact that I had ridden over meant that it was quite right for me to be wearing it.
Etienne left us and I realized that this was going to be a teteatete.
She said we should have Ie the because she knew how the English loved it.
“Have you noticed how we in France are imitating the English more and more? It is a form of flattery. But you would not have noticed it here. It is in Paris that it is obvious. In the shops there are signs ” English spoken here” and the lemonade sellers sell Ie Punch. That is English, as you know. The young men swagger round in English coats with capes. The women are wearing English hats and even the racecourse at Vincennes tries to be like your Newmarket.”
“I did not know this.”
There is much you have yet to learn of France, I feel sure. Then there are those tall vehicles they call “Whiskies”
I can tell you we are becoming more and more English every day. “
“That is very interesting.”
“You will see this when you go to Paris. You are going, I believe, with Marguerite.”
“Yes, that is so.”
“Such a good marriage, this. The Comte tells me that he is delighted with it. An alliance between Fontaine Delibes and Grasseville. Little could be better.”
The tea was brought in by one of the lackeys whose livery was very like the chateau colours slightly more muted, slightly less grand with silver buttons instead of gold. I could not help but be amused by the fine distinction.
“Mademoiselle smiled. The tea is to your liking?”
It is excellent, Madame. ” And so it was, served in little dishes of Sevres china, though somewhat unlike our home brew.
Small pastries were served with it They had delicious fillings of some cream concoction.
“I thought we should become better acquainted,” said Gabrielle LeGrand
“I saw you at the ball, of course, but one cannot really talk to people on such occasions. Was it not disgraceful … the stone through the window? I would not care to be in the culprit’s shoes if he were discovered. The Comte would have little mercy on him and he can be a stem man.”
“Do you think they will find him?”
Leon’s face swam before me and I admonished myself:
Don’t be silly. It was an illusion. Of course it wasn’t Leon. How could it have been? He could not have been in the ballroom so soon after, looking so fresh. I seemed to be developing a bent for imagining I saw people when it could hardly be likely that I had.
“I doubt it now. Unless one of his enemies betrays him. That sort of thing is happening all over the country. I don’t know what things are coming to. Are you staying in France, Mademoiselle? “
“I shall be with Marguerite for a while and when she marries return to England.”
She could not hide her relief. She said quickly: “How interesting it must have been to discover your connection with the Comte’s family … however remote.”
I did not answer and she went on: “Do tell me who exactly it was who married into the family. All the time I have known the Fontaine Delibes I have never before heard there was an English connection.”
“You must ask the Comte,” I said.
I see less of him nowadays. ” She sighed.
“There was a time … It was a great mistake he made in his marriage. You have met the Comtesse, of course.”
“Yes,” I answered coolly. I felt she was extremely tactless to mention the Comte’s marriage in this way.
“I ask,” she said, ‘because I know she lives a life of retirement. I gather she sees few’ people Poor Ursule! Anyone should have known how disastrous that would be. He used to confide in me . a great deal.
There is no point in attempting to hide the truth of our relationship when it is obvious for all to see. We have a fine son . our Etienne. And from her there was simply Marguerite. I will tell you in confidence that he has never ceased to regret that he did not marry me.”