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Updated: May 21, 2025
Sylvia was no sooner got home, but she resolved to receive Alonzo, who she was assured would come: she hasted to dress herself in a very rich suit of man's clothes, to receive him as the young French gentleman. She believed Brilliard would not come 'till late, as was his use, now being at play at Hermione's.
He bowed over Hermione's hand, and hurried away after Vere. The Padrone put his book very carefully down between Hermione and Artois, and left them with a murmured apology that he had to look after another party of guests which had just come into the restaurant. "I thought you would be glad to get rid of those young things for a minute," said Hermione, in explanation of what she had done.
Youth is terribly quick to feel hostility, however subtle. The thought that her mother could be hostile to her had never entered Vere's head. Nevertheless, the mother's faint and creeping hostility for at times Hermione's feeling was really that, thought she would doubtless have denied it even to herself disagreeably affected the child. "What can be the matter with Madre?" she thought.
They passed through the town of Cattaro, where was the station for Marechiaro. For a moment Maurice felt a pang of self-contempt, and of something more, of something that was tender, pitiful even, as he thought of Hermione's expectation disappointed. But it died away, or he thrust it away.
A cold feeling of dread encompassed him. He still saw, imaginatively, that stranger at the window, that falling movement, that frantic gesture, the descending blind that brought to Hermione's bedroom a great obscurity.
Already she knew it by heart, yet the wonder of it still encompassed her spirit. Hermione's cottage, the eyrie to which she was bringing Maurice Delarey, was only a cottage, although to Lucrezia it seemed almost a palace. It was whitewashed, with a sloping roof of tiles, and windows with green Venetian shutters.
The questions came fast, and would not be answered. Just then her aunt moved in the next room, and the thought of her possible insanity returned instantly to Hermione's mind. She determined that it was best to speak to her father about it. He was the person who ought to know immediately, and he should decide whether anything should be done.
She followed Aunt Judith, therefore, in silence and dejection, to the strong oaken door which divided the Lady Hermione's apartments from the rest of George Heriot's spacious house.
When Artois received Hermione's letter he asked who had brought it, and obtained from the waiter a fairly accurate description of Gaspare. "Please ask him to come up," he said. "I want to speak to him." Two or three minutes later there was a knock at the door and Gaspare walked in, with a large-eyed inquiring look. "Good-day, Gaspare.
Hermione's tender devotion to her mother, the old servant and the child was beautiful to witness. Now that Mrs. Leare was helpless on her daughter's hands, they seemed to have found their natural relations. Hermione said few words to me, but a glance now and then thanked me for being with them. The train started.
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