Jacintha looked fearfully round and whispered in Josephine's ear, "When the news of Colonel Raynal's death came, you wept, but the color came back to your cheek.When the news of his life came, you turned to stone.Ah! my poor young lady, there has been more between you and THAT MAN than should be.Ever since one day you all went to Frejus together, you were a changed woman.I have seen you look at him as--as a wife looks at her man.I have seen HIM"--"Hush, Jacintha! Do not tell me what you have seen: oh! do not remind me of joys I pray God to help me forget.He was my husband, then!--oh, cruel Jacintha, to remind me of what I have been, of what I am! Ah me! ah me! ah me!""Your husband!" cried Jacintha in utter amazement.
Then Josephine drooped her head on this faithful creature's shoulder, and told her with many sobs the story I have told you.
She told it very briefly, for it was to a woman who, though little educated, was full of feeling and shrewdness, and needed but the bare facts: she could add the rest from her own heart and experience: could tell the storm of feelings through which these two unhappy lovers must have passed.Her frequent sighs of pity and sympathy drew Josephine on to pour out all her griefs.When the tale was ended she gave a sigh of relief.
"It might have been worse: I thought it was worse the more fool I.
I deserve to have my head cut off." This was Jacintha's only comment at that time.
It was Josephine's turn to be amazed."It could have been worse?"said she."How? tell me," added she bitterly."It would be a consolation to me, could I see that."Jacintha colored and evaded this question, and begged her to go on, to keep nothing back from her.Josephine assured her she had revealed all.Jacintha looked at her a moment in silence.
"It is then as I half suspected.You do not know all that is before you.You do not see why I am afraid of that old man.""No, not of him in particular."
"Nor why I want to keep Mademoiselle Rose from prattling to him?""No.I assure you Rose is to be trusted; she is wise--wiser than Iam."
"You are neither of you wise.You neither of you know anything.My poor young mistress, you are but a child still.You have a deep water to wade through," said Jacintha, so solemnly that Josephine trembled."A deep water, and do not see it even.You have told me what is past, now I must tell you what is coming.Heaven help me!
But is it possible you have no misgiving? Tell the truth, now.""Alas! I am full of them; at your words, at your manner, they fly around me in crowds.""Have you no ONE?"
"No."
"Then turn your head from me a bit, my sweet young lady; I am an honest woman, though I am not so innocent as you, and I am forced against my will to speak my mind plainer than I am used to."Then followed a conversation, to detail which might anticipate our story; suffice it to say, that Rose, coming into the room rather suddenly, found her sister weeping on Jacintha's bosom, and Jacintha crying and sobbing over her.
She stood and stared in utter amazement.
Dr.Aubertin, on his arrival, was agreeably surprised at Madame Raynal's appearance.He inquired after her appetite.
"Oh, as to her appetite," cried the baroness, "that is immense.""Indeed!"
"It was," explained Josephine, "just when I began to get better, but now it is as much as usual." This answer had been arranged beforehand by Jacintha.She added, "The fact is, we wanted to see you, doctor, and my ridiculous ailments were a good excuse for tearing you from Paris."--"And now we have succeeded," said Rose, "let us throw off the mask, and talk of other things; above all, of Paris, and your eclat.""For all that," persisted the baroness, "she was ill, when I first wrote, and very ill too.""Madame Raynal," said the doctor solemnly, "your conduct has been irregular; once ill, and your illness announced to your medical adviser, etiquette forbade you to get well but by his prescriptions.
Since, then, you have shown yourself unfit to conduct a malady, it becomes my painful duty to forbid you henceforth ever to be ill at all, without my permission first obtained in writing."This badinage was greatly relished by Rose, but not at all by the baroness, who was as humorless as a swan.
He stayed a month at Beaurepaire, then off to Paris again: and being now a rich man, and not too old to enjoy innocent pleasures, he got a habit of running backwards and forwards between the two places, spending a month or so at each alternately.So the days rolled on.
