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The little expedition was not over until half-past seven. Visitors' cards attracted Mlle. Frahender's attention. They were from the Minister Prince de Bernecourt and the Count Albert Styvens, Secretary of the Legation. Feeling that she would not see the Count gave the young artist the sensation of relief comparable to that of a prisoner walking straight out of his jail into freedom.
Albert Styvens became livid, a cold sweat broke out on his forehead, a polite phrase died in his throat. He rose to his feet and followed the Prince of Bernecourt. The little reception-room next to Esperance's dressing-room was full of flowers, but no one was there. The manager and author had agreed that no stranger should approach the young artist. Only the family, Jean Perliez and Mlle.
The Prince de Bernecourt had had to once more take up his post, but his wife had stayed to keep her friend company, and because she loved the "little Darbois," as she called her. The Duke de Morlay was visiting friends whose Chateau was about an hour's journey away. He came every day for news from the Duchess, and from his goddaughter Jeanette. A month went by.
All the other servants were forbidden to approach the Tower. The Countess Styvens, accompanied by the Duke de Castel-Montjoie, the Prince and Princess de Bernecourt, and the Baron van Berger, had taken the body of her son to be buried in the great family mausoleum which she had raised to the memory of her husband at her country place of Lacken.
He raised his hand painfully to wipe with trembling fingers the tears burning the beautiful eyes that had already wept so much. The Chaplain from the Chateau entered the room, bearing the Holy Sacrament. He was accompanied by the Dowager Duchess, the Prince and Princess of Bernecourt. A solemn hush quieted the sobs of the two women. The priest bent over the couch of the dying man.
Everything happened according to the Count's plans. Francois Darbois had a great success; the Catholic party owed him recognition for his noble dissertation on the role of philosophy in religion. He was a fervent follower of the author of "The Genius of Christianity." The Princess de Bernecourt presented sincere compliments to the affable philosopher.
Countess Styvens was spending a month in Paris, staying at the Legation with the Princess de Bernecourt, who always had a suite ready for her. There was to be a grand opening ceremony of the Opera season, and for many years the Styvens had never missed the first nights of the Opera or the Comedie-Francaise.
Then, as he was about to go, he turned, "Have you received your invitation for...?" The door opened. Count Albert, being introduced by the maitre d'hotel, had heard the last words. "I am just delivering it myself," he said, handing Mlle. Frahender a card which she read to Esperance "His Excellence, the Count de Bernecourt, Minister of Belgium to France, and the Princess, hope that Mlle.
The wedding, solemnized in the little church of Sauzen, at Belle-Isle-en-Mer, was very private. Maurice had for witnesses his uncle, Francois Darbois, and the Marquis de Montagnac, with whom he had become great friends. Doctor Potain and the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche were witnesses for Genevieve. The Dowager Duchess and the Princess de Bernecourt were present.
She stopped short upon seeing three strangers, and her eyes sought Sardou's, full of startled surprise. "I have taken the liberty of disturbing you, little friend.... I want to present you to the Princess de Bernecourt." Esperance curtsied with pretty grace.
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