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Come, put off your grand airs, and give me your hand!" continued Camille, taking Madame de Rochefide's hand. "You do not love Calyste, you say; that is true, is it not? Don't be angry, therefore; be hard, and cold, and stern to him to-morrow; he will end by submitting to his fate, especially after certain little reproaches which I mean to make to him.
Let us walk on the jetty; I should like to see her." While Calyste was racking his brains to imagine what could have closed the doors of Les Touches to him, a scene was passing between Camille and Beatrix which was to have its influence on the events of the morrow. Calyste's last letter had stirred in Madame de Rochefide's heart emotions hitherto unknown to it.
"I am committing follies," he said, grasping Camille's hand, and bidding her good-night in deep dejection. He returned home, found the usual company at mouche, and passed the remainder of the evening sitting beside his mother. The rector, the Chevalier du Halga, and Mademoiselle de Pen-Hoel all knew of Madame de Rochefide's departure, and were rejoicing in it.
In the midst of her remorse for the addition she had made to Madame de Rochefide's letter she had resolved to conquer, to win back Calyste by loving kindness, by the virtues of a wife, by the gentleness of the paschal lamb. She wished, also, to deceive all Paris. She loved, loved as courtesans and as angels love, with pride, with humility. But the opera chanced to be "Otello."
The tears came into Madame de Rochefide's eyes, and she turned away toward the parapet to hide them. Calyste followed her. "Madame," said Camille, in a low voice to the viscountess, "are you not aware that the marquise is separated from her husband? She has not seen her son for two years, and does not know when she will see him." "You don't say so!" said Madame de Kergarouet.
This enabled Gasselin to consort with Madame de Rochefide's cook, and before long, Sabine gave Calyste the same fare, only better; but still he made difficulties. "What is wanting now?" she said. "Oh, nothing," he answered, looking round the table for something he did not find.
"There is always one resource with the Marquise de Rochefide," remarked Clotilde, smiling, to her sister; "she never keeps her adorers long." "D'Ajuda, my darling," continued the duchess, "was Monsieur de Rochefide's brother-in-law.
Calyste rose, took his wife round the neck, kissed her on both cheeks and whispered: "Sabine, you are an angel!" Two days later the young wife was thought to be out of danger, and the next day Calyste was at Madame de Rochefide's making a merit of his infamy. "Beatrix," he said, "you owe me happiness. I have sacrificed my poor little wife to you; she has discovered all.
The very strength of hatred which makes me long for Madame de Rochefide's death ah, heavens! a natural death, pleurisy, or some accident makes me also understand to its fullest extent the power of my love for Calyste. That woman has appeared to me to trouble my sleep, I see her in a dream; shall I ever encounter her bodily?
"Forget Beatrix!" said Calyste, in a muffled voice, with his eyes on the ground. He left the baroness, and went up to his own room to write an answer to the marquise. Madame du Guenic, whose heart retained every word of Madame de Rochefide's letter, felt the need of some help in comprehending it more clearly, and also the grounds of Calyste's hope.
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