Fairy Fingers Part 36

"Have I not again and again begged you not to meddle with railroads,--not to occupy yourself with business matters which a n.o.bleman is bound to ignore?"

"And by obeying you, as far as I could, and only acting in secret, I have nearly ruined myself," answered the count, with growing excitement.

At this moment the loud ringing of a bell was heard, accompanied by the voice of Lurline, speaking in tones of great tribulation.

"Patrick! Patrick! do you not hear the bell? Come here quickly! What's to be done? Such a calamity! It's dreadful! dreadful!"

Count Tristan started up, and went to the door to question the _femme de chambre_, fearing that the calamity in question might be of a nature sufficiently serious to prevent the much-desired interview.

Lurline was standing in the hall; she wore her hat and shawl, and was giving directions to a domestic in the most rapid and flurried manner.

"Will Madame de Fleury receive us?" inquired the count, anxiously.

"I told monsieur that I could not promise him, and, now that this misfortune has befallen us, it is thoroughly impossible even to make your presence here known to madame. Who could have antic.i.p.ated such a _contretems_? Never before has Mademoiselle Melanie allowed a dress to issue from her hands which did not fit _a merveille_, and there are two important alterations to be made in this before it can be worn. Madame is in despair; she will go out of her senses; it will give her a brain fever!"

"Can we not have the pleasure of seeing her for a few moments, when her toilet is completed?" inquired Maurice.

"Ah, there it is! _When_ her toilet is completed? Will it be completed in time for her to reach the senate at the hour proposed? Monsieur will pardon me, but I have not a moment to spare."

Turning to Patrick, she added, "I am forced to go out to purchase some ribbons. I have left madame in the hands of Antoinette. Madame is in such a state that one might weep to see her! Take care not to admit any one, except the Countess Orlowski, who accompanies your mistress to the senate. I will be back presently."

The Countess de Gramont rose up majestically.

"Let us depart, my son! Never more will I cross this threshold,--never enter this house where I have been insulted!"

"No insult was intended," replied Count Tristan, nervously. "Even if it were, we are not in a position to be cognizant of insults; we should be forced to ignore them. I cannot leave without entreating the marchioness to deliver this letter to Monsieur de Fleury, herself: it _must_ be done,--and _to-day_. There is not an instant to lose."

"And you can stoop so low,--you can demean yourself to such a degree?

What a humiliation!"

"Humiliations are not to be taken into consideration where _ruin_ stares us in the face!" he answered, violently.

"Is it _so very important_?" inquired Bertha, struck by the count's angry manner.

"Of more importance than I can explain to you!"

"Oh, then let us stay, aunt! We must make allowances for Madame de Fleury's ruling pa.s.sion. Her toilet first, all the world afterward!"

A carriage just then drove to the door, and attracted the attention of Bertha, who was standing by the open window.

"What magnificent horses! and what a neat equipage! All the appointments in such admirable taste! A lady is descending. I suppose it must be the Countess Orlowski. What a dignified air she has! What a graceful bearing! I wish I could see her face. She must be handsome with such a perfect figure. Yes,--I am right,--it _is_ the Countess Orlowski, for the servant has admitted her."

As the lady was pa.s.sing through the hall, she said to the domestic, "No, you need not announce me; I will go at once to the chamber of Madame de Fleury."

At the sound of that voice, the shriek of joy that broke from Bertha's lips drowned the amazed exclamation of Maurice. In another instant, Bertha's arms were around the stranger, and her kisses were mingled with tears and broken e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns, as she embraced her rapturously.

Maurice stood beside them, struggling with emotion that caused his manly frame to vibrate from head to foot, while his dilated eyes appeared spellbound by some familiar apparition which they hardly dared to believe was palpable.

There is a joy which, in its wild excess, paralyzes the faculties, makes dumb the voice, confuses the brain, until ecstasy becomes agony, and all the senses are enveloped in a cloud of doubt. Such was the joy of Maurice as he stood powerless, questioning the blissful reality of the hour, yet in the actual presence of that being who was never a moment absent from his mental vision.

"Madeleine! Madeleine! My own Madeleine! Have we found you at last? Is it really you?" sobbed Bertha, whose tears always flowed easily, but now poured in torrents from their blue heavens.

And Madeleine, as she pa.s.sionately returned her cousin's embrace, dropped her head upon Bertha's shoulder, and wept also.

"Madeleine!"

At that tremulously tender voice her face was lifted and turned toward Maurice,--turned for the first time for nearly five long years; and yet, at that moment, he felt as though it had never been turned away.

Bertha involuntarily loosened her arms, and Madeleine extended her hand to Maurice. He clasped it fervently, but his quivering lips gave forth no sound. One irrepressible look of perfect joy from Madeleine's luminous eyes had answered the impa.s.sioned gaze of his; one smile of ineffable grat.i.tude played over her sweet lips. For an instant the eyes were raised heavenward, in mute thanksgiving, and then sought the ground, as though they feared to reveal too much; and the smile of transport changed to one of grave serenity, and the wonted quietude of her demeanor returned.

The countess and Count Tristan had both risen in speechless surprise, but had made no attempt to approach Madeleine, whom Bertha now drew into the room.

"Madeleine! I cannot believe that I am not dreaming," cried the latter; "I cannot believe that I have found you!--that it is really you! And you are lovelier than ever! You no longer look pale and careworn; you are happy, my own Madeleine,--you are happy,--are you not? But why have you forgotten us?"

"I have never forgotten--never--never _forgotten_!" faltered Madeleine, in a voice that had a sound of tears, answering to those that glittered in her eyes.

Maurice had not released her hand, and, bending over her, made an effort to speak; but at that moment the stern voice of the countess broke in harshly,--

"How is it that we find you here, Mademoiselle de Gramont? Where have you hidden yourself? What have you done since you fled from my protection?"

"Yes, what have you done?" chimed in Count Tristan. "How is it that we find you descending from a handsome equipage and elegantly attired?"

"I have done nothing for which I shall ever have to blush!" answered Madeleine, with a dignity which awed him into silence.

"It was needless to say _that_, dear Madeleine," cried Maurice, whose powers of utterance had returned when he saw Madeleine about to be a.s.sailed. "No one who knows you would _dare to believe_ that you ever committed an action that demanded a blush."

Madeleine thanked him with her speaking countenance. Perhaps it was only fancy, but he thought he felt a light, grateful pressure of the hand he held.

"But tell us where you have been!" continued Bertha, affectionately.

"You look differently, Madeleine, and yet the same; and how this rich attire becomes you! You are no longer poor and dependent then,--are you?"

"I am no longer poor, and no longer dependent!" answered Madeleine, in a tone of honest pride.

"Is it possible?" exclaimed the count and his mother together.

"But how has all this happened?" Bertha ran on. "Oh! I can divine: you are married,--you have made a brilliant marriage."

At those words a suppressed groan, of unutterable anguish, struck on Madeleine's ear; and the hand Maurice held dropped from his grasp.

"Speak! do speak! dear Madeleine!" continued Bertha. "Tell us all your sufferings,--for you must have suffered at first,--and all your joys, since you are happy now. And tell us how you chance to be here,--here in America, as we are; and how it happens that you are calling upon the Marchioness de Fleury, at the same time as ourselves; and why you expect to be received by her, though she will not receive us."

Before Madeleine could reply, and she was evidently collecting herself to speak, Lurline, who had just returned from executing her commission, pa.s.sed through the hall. The door of the drawing-room stood open; she caught sight of Madeleine, and ran toward her, exclaiming joyfully,--

"Oh, what good fortune! How rejoiced my poor mistress will be! She did not dare to hope for this great kindness! I am so thankful! I will fly to announce to her the good news!"

She hurried away, leaving Madeleine's relatives more than ever amazed by these mysterious words.

Count Tristan was the first to break the silence. Ever keenly alive to his own interest, he saw a great advantage to be gained if he had interpreted the language of the _femme de chambre_ rightly.