“You think that likely?”
“What can resist love? Tell me that.”
And her beautiful eyes, swimming with tears, looked
anxiously, trustingly into the young man’s face.
“I tell you what I truly believe. And that
is, that Esperance loves the Duke.”
The young painter meditated for a long time.
“Come on, we must go back,” he said finally.
“We must get ready for the rehearsal.”
He left the girl with exhortations to reason with his
cousin.
“What the deuce is our will for if we can’t
exercise it?”
“Maurice, I am brave and determined, you know
that. My sister and I have struggled unaided,
she since she was thirteen! I since I was eight.
I thought that she was enough to fill all my life,
and now....”
“And now,” he asked tenderly, taking her
hand.
“All my life is yours! I should not tell
you this, but you can judge by my doing so the impotence
of will against....”
She drew away her hand hastily, ran to the staircase
and disappeared. He heard the door open and his
cousin’s voice saying, “How pale you are,
Genevieve!”
“What are you dreaming about, Cousin Maurice?”
said Albert, putting his hand gently on his shoulder.
That hand felt to Maurice as heavy as remorse.
“Let us go and see what is going on,”
said the young painter. “There is Jean
coming to look for us now.”
In the great hall of the Chateau a charming theatre
had been built. Everything was ready for the
rehearsal. An enormous revolving platform held
three wooden squares which would serve as frames for
the tableaux vivants. The mechanism had been
arranged by an eminent Parisian engineer. A curtain
decorated by Maurice served as background. There
were eleven little dressing rooms, seven for the women,
four for the men.
Maurice saw the Duke seated straddlewise on a chair,
and smoking a cigarette. The three men went up
to him before he was aware of their presence.
At sound of Albert’s voice he sprang to his feet,
almost as if expecting an attack. His nostrils
were dilated, his face set. In an instant he
resumed his usual manner, and shook hands with the
young men.
“You were asleep?” suggested the Count.
“No, I was dreaming, and I think you must have
figured in my dream.”
“Let us hear of the dream.”
“Oh! no, dreams ought not to be told!”
And he pretended to busy himself with some orders.
The guests who were to take part in the tableaux vivants
began slowly to stream in. Maurice took Jean
aside and told him what had happened that morning.
“You must keep watch too. I am not going
to leave the Duke.”
When Esperance and Genevieve came in, Maurice caught
the Duke’s expression in a mirror. He saw
him move away and join a distant group where he lingered
chatting. Jean thought Esperance looked uneasy.
Albert came up to her and kissed her hand. She
smiled sadly. She was looking for some one.
The Duke had disappeared before she had seen him.
