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He answered in a joking way, but there was a troubled look on his face.
"Oh, as to me, it is an idea that I should like very much; but she would not; therefore it amounts to the same thing!"
Bijou came up to them just at that moment, gliding along with her light step. She was followed by young Bernes, who looked vexed about something.
"I cannot, really, mademoiselle," he was saying, "I a.s.sure you that I cannot get away from my friends that day."
"Oh, yes, you can; mustn't he, grandmamma?" asked Denyse merrily, "mustn't M. de Bernes come to dinner here on the day of the paper-chase? He is to be the hare, and the start is to be from the 'Cinq-Tranchees'--it is only a mile from Bracieux at the farthest."
Madame de Bracieux was examining the young officer with interest, and there was a kindly look in her eyes.
"Why, certainly," she said, "he must come here to dinner; we shall all be so pleased."
"You are very kind, madame, to invite me, but I was explaining to Mademoiselle de Courtaix that on that day, after the paper-chase, which the regiment is getting up for the benefit of the residents, I have promised faithfully to dine with several of my friends." And glancing, in spite of himself, at Bijou, he added, "And I regret it now, more than I can tell you!"
Turning round on her high heels, Denyse glided off again to the other end of the long room, where she was greeted by Pierrot with reproachful words.
"It was very mean of you to slope away from us like that, you know!"
exclaimed the boy.
M. de Jonzac, who was playing billiards with the abbe, was also keeping one ear open to catch what was going on round him. He now protested against the way in which Pierrot expressed himself, even supposing that the reproach itself were just.
"Well, yes," answered his son, "it's quite true that I'm not over-particular about what words I use, but that doesn't prevent what I said being true; and the others said it too, just now; I wasn't the only one."
"Mademoiselle," said Giraud, who was standing near the large bay-window, looking out at the sky, "you said yesterday that you liked shooting stars--I have never seen so many as there are to-night."
"Really?" replied Denyse, going to the window, and leaning her arms on the ledge, side by side with the tutor, "are there as many as all that? What's that to the left?" she asked, bending forward. "I can see something white on the terrace."
"It is Mademoiselle Dubuisson, who is strolling about with her father and M. Spiegel."
"Ah! supposing we went out to them--shall we?"
Giraud led the way at once, only too happy to go out for a stroll on this beautiful starry night. When they were near the terrace, she stopped suddenly.
"Perhaps we shall be _de trop_," she said; "they may be talking of private affairs. Let us go to the chestnut avenue, and they'll come to us if they want to."
She descended the marble steps, and they were soon in the dark avenue, under the thick chestnut trees. The young man had followed her, his heart beating with excitement, almost beside himself with joy. They walked along for some little time without speaking, and then at last Bijou looked up, trying to catch a glimpse of the sky between the branches of the trees.
"We shall not see much of the shooting stars here," she said.
"Oh, yes," answered Giraud, who did not want to leave this shady walk, where he had Bijou all to himself, "we can see them all the same.
Look, there's one, did you see it?"
"Not distinctly, and not long enough to be able to wish anything."
"To wish anything? but what?"
"Oh! anything. Why! do you mean to say you did not know that when you see a shooting star you ought to wish something?"
"No, I did not know. And does your wish get fulfilled?"
"They say so."
"Well, then, mademoiselle, have you a wish quite ready this time, so that you will not be taken unawares?"
"Yes, certainly, I have one; but it can never be realised."
"Ah! I dare not ask you what."
"I should like to be quite different from what I am," she replied, very gently. "Yes, I should like to be a very pretty girl, in quite humble circ.u.mstances, so that I need not be obliged to go into society, and so that I could marry just whom I liked. I should like to be, in fact, happy according to my own idea of things, without troubling anything about social prejudices and conventionalities."
"Why should you wish that?" he asked, in a voice that trembled slightly.
"So that I should have the right to love anyone who loved me. I mean, openly; without having to keep it to myself." And then she added, in a very low voice, "And without reproaching myself for it."
She was walking quite close to him, so close, that their shoulders touched at every step.
Giraud was quite agitated with conflicting emotions.
"You say that--as if--as if--you did care for someone?" he stammered out.
He knew that she had turned her face towards him, but she did not speak.
Just at this moment a screech-owl, which was perched quite near them amongst the thick, dark looking foliage of the trees, gave a sudden, wailing, cry, which startled Bijou. She knocked against Giraud as she jumped aside in her fright, and he instinctively put his arms round her. Her soft, perfumed hair brushed against his lips, making him lose his head completely. He forgot everything, and, utterly oblivious of all that separated him from the young girl, he drew her closer to him in a pa.s.sionate embrace, and murmured tenderly:
"Denyse!"
She let him do as he liked, without offering any resistance, but when, at last, he set her free, she said, in a tender, plaintive tone:
"Oh! how wrong it was of you to have done that, how wrong of you!" And then she hid her face in her hands, and he could hear that she was crying.
He tried to console her, but she would not allow him to stay.
"No, go away, please," she said: "they will be wondering where you are. I shall come in directly, when I am myself again."
As he was starting off in the direction of the terrace, she called him back.
"Not that way," she said. "Go round by the pool. Don't let them think you have come from here."
"Let me stay another minute, just to ask you to forgive me. Let me kiss those little hands that I love--"
"Please go! Please go!" she said, in a tone that sounded as though she mistrusted herself.
Before turning into the walk that led round by the pool, Giraud stopped a minute to get another glimpse of Denyse, who, in her light dress, looked like a white spot against the dark background of the trees. He could hear that she was still crying.
"Is that you, Bijou?" asked Jean de Blaye, coming forward in the thick darkness.