The Flower Girl of The Chateau d'Eau Volume Ii Part 28

x.x.xVII

THE CONCIERGE-NURSE

In a hasty, violent, nervous disposition, wrath is quick to come; it bursts out violently, but it does not last long; the heart that feels the most profoundly the wounds that it receives, is also the most sensitive to the tears that it sees shed, and it very speedily repents of the pain it has inflicted.

The Comte de Brevanne, who had only a few hours before acquired the certainty that his wife had had a child by Roncherolle, had been unable to control his wrath and his jealousy when their child appeared before him; at the first blush, he had imagined that it was a fresh insult, an additional affront purposely put upon him. All his sufferings, all his anguish had returned to his mind and to his heart, and we have seen how, as a result of all these circ.u.mstances, he had received poor Violette.

But when a half hour had pa.s.sed after the young girl's departure, the count, who had remained alone in his study, had had time to grow calm; moreover, the storm that was in the air had broken, the rain was falling in torrents; at such times nervous people always feel relieved, they breathe more freely, their brain becomes clearer and their irritation falls with the rain.

Brevanne looked about him, pa.s.sed his hand over his forehead, and said to himself:

"So that girl has gone. How I treated her! why, I must have lost my reason. She came here to ask me for help, for protection, and I brutally sent her away, drove her out of doors. Poor child! is it her fault that she is the fruit of adultery? She does not know who her mother is, as she came to ask me for information concerning her parents. They shamelessly abandoned her, and I turn her out of doors! Can it be that I propose to be as shameless as they? Ah! I behaved very badly. And this storm--great heavens! the rain is falling in sheets. Can she have gone away in such weather?"

The count rang violently and Pongo quickly answered.

"Master, he ring?"

"Yes; that young girl from Paris who came just now to speak to me--where is she? Go and find her, and bring her back; I don't want her to go away."

"Yes, master."

And the mulatto, who had seen no girl, ran all over the house, the courtyard and the garden, shouting at the top of his voice:

"Young girl from Paris! come right back. Master ask for you; master want to see you. She no answer.--Oh! me find you!"

Georget spied Pongo just at the moment that he was applying to a great chestnut tree, saying to it:

"You see young lady who come to speak to master?"

"What are you doing there, Pongo?"

"Monsieur Georget, me look for someone master want, and me no find."

"And you are applying to that tree to learn where she is?"

"Oh! he understand all right; he no speak, but he understand."

"Whom are you looking for?"

"A young girl from Paris, who come to speak to master; he no longer want her to go away."

"A young girl from Paris has been here to see Monsieur Malberg?"

"Yes."

"What was she like, Pongo? Describe her to me."

"Me no see her. It was master, him tell me."

"Who let her in then? Ah! there's the gardener."

Georget ran to the gardener, and Pongo ran about the garden, talking to the trees and the flowers.

"Did you see this girl who came from Paris to speak to monsieur?"

"Yes, to be sure; it was me who let her in and took her to the master."

"What was she like?"

"Pretty as a picture, on my word; she's a fine slip of a girl."

"Did she tell you her name before you let her in?"

"No, she said it wasn't worth while."

"Did she stay long with monsieur?"

"Why, yes, quite a while."

"And she has gone?"

"Yes, as much as half an hour ago; the storm was just beginning, and when I saw that, I asked her to wait in my house; I told her she'd get wet; but she wouldn't stop; she made me feel bad because she was crying."

"She was crying? What! she was crying when she left Monsieur Malberg?"

"I should say so! big tears too! she looked as if she was in very great trouble, but she started off all the same."

Georget waited to hear no more; he ran to the count, and could hardly say what he wished to, he was so excited.

"Monsieur, the girl who came--a young girl came from Paris,--and talked with you, monsieur?"

"To be sure; well?"

"Why, she went away again, monsieur; and the gardener noticed that when she went away, she was crying, she was very unhappy."

"Ah! she was crying?"

"Yes, monsieur. I ask your pardon, monsieur, for questioning you; but this girl--was it she, monsieur?"

"She--who?"

"Violette, monsieur, the little flower girl; the one that--you know, monsieur."

"No, no, it wasn't she;" replied the count, trying to calm Georget's excitement. "Why do you suppose that that girl would come to see me?"