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Madame de Montcornet grew seriously uneasy when she noticed an expression of fear and anxiety in Olympe's face and attitude. By the way a woman draws out her needle or sets her stitches another woman understands her thoughts.
"I'll go to the mayor's office of your arrondissement, and get Olympe's register of birth, and put up the banns. The marriage must take place a week from Saturday." "How he goes it, the rascal!" cried the admiring Madame Cardinal, pushing her formidable son-in-law by the shoulder.
"Well, the rascal turned Olympe's head, and he, madame, did not keep good company when I tell you he was very near being nabbed by the police in a tavern where thieves meet. 'Wever, Monsieur Braulard, the leader of the claque, got him out of that. He wears gold earrings, and he lives by doing nothing, hanging on to women, who are fools about these good-looking scamps.
Quite a new element had lately entered into Van Twiller's enjoyment of Mademoiselle Olympe's ingenious feats a vaguely born apprehension that she might slip from that swinging bar; that one of the thin cords supporting it might snap, and let her go headlong from the dizzy height.
That Van Twiller, haunting the theatre with the persistency of an ex-actor, conducted himself so discreetly as not to draw the fire of Mademoiselle Olympe's blue eyes shows that Van Twiller, however deeply under a spell, was not in love.
That Van Twiller, haunting the theatre with the persistency of an ex-actor, conducted himself so discreetly as not to draw the fire of Mademoiselle Olympe's blue eyes shows that Van Twiller, however deeply under a spell, was not in love.
It happened, then, in the second week of Queen Olympe's second unconscious reign, that an appalling Whisper floated up the Hudson, effected a landing at a point between Spuyten Duyvil Creek and Cold Spring, and sought out a stately mansion of Dutch architecture standing on the bank of the river.
Hearing the dogs, Cornevin, an old Percheron, Olympe's foster-father, came from behind the trees, showing a head such as no other region than La Perche can manufacture. Cornevin was undoubtedly a Chouan in 1794 and 1799. The whole party accompanied the countess along that one of the six forest avenues which led directly to the gate of Conches, crossing the Silver-spring rivulet.
Even La Grande Mademoiselle did not escape her insolence; for, as she herself records, "when I paid her a thousand compliments and told her that her marriage had given me the greatest joy and that I hoped we should always be good friends, she answered me not a word." But Olympe's supremacy was not to remain much longer unchallenged.
"I have seen enough for to-day; take me home, gentlemen," murmured the countess, putting her hand on Emile's arm. She bowed sadly to Madame Michaud, after watching La Pechina safely back to the pavilion. Olympe's depression was transferred to her mistress. "Ah, madame," said the abbe, as they continued their way, "can it be that the difficulty of doing good is about to deter you?
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