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In fact Vautrot, after passing on his part a most wretched night, did not feel his nerves equal in the morning to meeting the reception the Count possibly had in waiting for him. His letter was skilfully penned to put suspicion to sleep if it had not been fully roused, and if the Countess had not betrayed him.
M. Hippolyte Vautrot was a handsome man and knew it perfectly. He even flattered himself on a certain resemblance to his patron, the Comte de Camors. Partly from nature and partly from continual imitation, this idea had some foundation; for he resembled the Count as much as a vulgar man can resemble one of the highest polish.
In the absence of her husband she always found him at hand; and referred to him for many little details, such as addresses, invitations, the selection of books and the purchase of furniture. From this came a certain familiarity; she began to call him Vautrot, or "My good Vautrot," while he zealously performed all her little commissions.
"There is no necessity for becoming, for I already am infinitely so!" "I do not think so. Shall you leave to-morrow?" "I shall." "Why so soon?" "I have business elsewhere." "Very well. But Vau Vautrot is he not there?" Vautrot was the secretary of M. de Camors. "Vautrot can not do everything," he replied. "By the way, I do not like your Vautrot."
Madame de la Roche-Jugan finally offered to send Vautrot to her, that she might herself interrogate him. Madame de Tecle, affecting an incredulity and a tranquillity she did not feel, refused and withdrew. On her returning to her daughter, she forced herself to deceive her as to the impressions she had received, but she did not succeed; for her anxious face belied her reassuring words.
He was difficult to please in point of virtue demanding heroism; in talent, genius; in art, perfection. His political opinions were those of Erostratus, with this difference always in favor of the ancient that Vautrot, after setting fire to the temple, would have robbed it also. In short, he was a fool, but a vicious fool as well.
A world seemed rolling down and crushing her heart. Suddenly she turned, passed with rapid steps into her boudoir; and Vautrot heard the sound of opening and shutting drawers. A moment after she reappeared with bonnet and cloak, and crossed the boudoir with the same strong and rapid step. Vautrot, greatly terrified, rushed to stop her. "Madame!" he cried, throwing himself before her.
It was after this search that M. Vautrot repaired with his volume of Faust to the boudoir of the young Countess, at whose feet we have already left him too long. Madame de Camors had closed her eyes to conceal her tears. She opened them at the instant Vautrot seized her hand and called her "Poor angel!"
"There is no necessity for becoming, for I already am infinitely so!" "I do not think so. Shall you leave to-morrow?" "I shall." "Why so soon?" "I have business elsewhere." "Very well. But Vau Vautrot is he not there?" Vautrot was the secretary of M. de Camors. "Vautrot can not do everything," he replied. "By the way, I do not like your Vautrot."
But Vautrot, whenever he looked at her, wore such a sympathetic air and seemed so mortified when she did not invite him to stay, that, even when wearied of him, she frequently did so. About the end of the month of April, M. Vautrot was alone with the Countess de Camors about ten o'clock in the evening. They were reading Goethe's Faust, which she had never before heard.
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