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Updated: May 3, 2025
Then there was a pause long enough to embarrass Camors, during which his eye fell upon the piano, and his lips almost formed the original remark "You are a musician, Madame." Suddenly recollecting his tree, however, he feared to betray himself by the allusion, and was silent. "You come from Paris, Monsieur de Camors?" Madame de Tecle at length asked.
The shadow of a smile flitted over Madame de Tecle's brown but charming face. "His niece?" she said: "I am his niece." "You I Pardon me, Madame, but I thought they said I expected to find an elderly a person that is, a respectable" he hesitated, then added simply "and I find I am in error." Madame de Tecle seemed completely unmoved by this compliment.
As she believed she knew him thoroughly, she thought he wished to avoid committing himself, or awakening public observation, before he had made up his mind. He acted thus to avoid disturbing the repose of both mother and daughter. Perhaps also the large fortune which seemed destined for Mademoiselle de Tecle might add to his scruples by rousing his pride.
In this thought was a bitterness which he keenly felt. His native generosity, his humanity, shuddered as he heard the terrible cries and accents of distress which succeeded each other without intermission. He passed some heavy hours in the damp garden this cold night, and the chilly morning which succeeded it. Madame de Tecle came frequently to give him the news.
Mademoiselle Marie was so quick-witted that her mother often suspected she knew the secret which concerned herself. Sometimes she talked too much of M. de Camors; sometimes she talked too little, and assumed a mysterious air when others spoke of him. Madame de Tecle was a little disturbed by these eccentricities.
Mademoiselle Marie, as we have already stated, was a cunning little puss, and had not failed to perceive that her tender mother chose habitually the season of the convocation of the Councils-General to try a new style of hair-dressing for her. The same year on which we have resumed our recital there passed, on one occasion, a little scene which rather annoyed Madame de Tecle.
"Of me?" said Camors, whose lips were slightly tremulous. "Poor child, I hope not!" and rapidly withdrew. Madame de Camors and Madame de Tecle had learned, the previous morning, of the death of the General. The evening of the Count's arrival they did not speak to him on the subject, and were cautious not to make any allusion to it.
They were still quite close to the hut, but the branches of the old trees which had been spared by the axe spread like a sombre dome over their heads. Near by was a large rock, slightly covered with moss, and a number of old trunks of trees, on which Madame de Tecle took her seat. "Nothing could be better," said Camors, gayly. "I must collect my materials."
Why, I am ignorant; but he is courting me and you also, my mother. Observe it!" Madame de Tecle did observe it. It seemed he wished to link the past with his new life; to forget the rest, and pray of them to forget it also. It was not without fear that these two charming women abandoned themselves to their hopes.
Shall I tell them that this displeases Monsieur le Comte?" "My good Leonard, why the deuce do you suppose it displeases me? I only asked for information. And now who are the ladies?" "Oh! Monsieur, they are quite respectable ladies; Madame de Tecle, and her daughter, Mademoiselle Marie." "So? And the husband of Madame, Monsieur de Tecle, never rides out with them?" "Heavens! no, Monsieur.
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