Fairy Fingers Part 62

"I beg pardon,--_that_, I think is mine," replied his lords.h.i.+p; and then, indicating the one upon the table which Count Tristan apparently did not see, asked, "Is not this yours?"

"I suppose so; it cannot be any one's else; there are only two of us. I wish you a good-morning."

With a forced, unnatural laugh, he left the room.

Count Tristan's deportment, in general, was almost as calm and stately as that of his august mother; though it was only a weak reflex of hers; accordingly the change in his demeanor surprised Lord Linden unpleasantly; but he took leave of the countess without endeavoring to solve an enigma to which he had no clew.

CHAPTER x.x.xVII.

A SHOCK.

Count Tristan, on reaching Madeleine's residence was ushered into her boudoir. He found her reclining upon the sofa, with a book in her hand.

She had not entirely recovered from her indisposition, and wisely thought that one of the most effectual modes of battling against illness was to divert the mind: an invaluable medicine, too little in vogue among the suffering, yet calculated to produce marvellous amelioration of physical pain. As all _matter_ exists from, and is influenced by, spiritual causes, the happy workings of this mental ministry are very comprehensible. Madeleine invariably found medicinal and restorative properties in the pages of an interesting and healthful-toned volume which would draw her out of the contemplation of her own ailments. She had trained herself, when the prostration of her faculties or other circ.u.mstances rendered it impossible for her to read, to lie still and reflect upon all the blessings that were accorded to her, to count them over, one by one, and _compel_ herself to estimate each at its full value. In this manner she successfully counteracted the depression and unrest that attend bodily disease, and often succeeded in lifting her mind so far above its disordered mortal medium that she was hardly conscious of suffering, which was nevertheless very real. Sceptical reader! you smile in doubt, and think that if Madeleine's wisdom and patience could accomplish this feat, she was a rare instance of womanhood. Try her experiment faithfully and then decide!

Madeleine only partially rose when Count Tristan entered.

"My dear niece,--my dearest Madeleine,--I hope you are not ill?"

Although the count spoke with an air of exaggerated affection, his manner was far more self-possessed than when he left the hotel. The fresh air had revived him. Madeleine was not struck by any singularity in his deportment.

"Not exactly ill, yet not quite well," she answered, without pretending to respond to his oppressive tenderness; "and I was trying to forget myself."

"That was always your way, Madeleine; you are always forgetting yourself and remembering others. I always said so. I always appreciated your beautiful traits. The time has come when your whole family will appreciate them, and rejoice that you are restored to us. My mother is in a very different frame of mind to day; you must forget all that took place yesterday. You must forgive the past, and accept the hand of reconciliation which she extends to you."

"Is it possible that the Countess de Gramont has charged you to say this for her?"

"This, and a great deal more. She opens her arms to you; hereafter you two are to be as mother and daughter."

Count Tristan spoke with so much earnestness, that probably he had succeeded in believing his own liberally invented statements.

"It seems very strange," returned Madeleine; "yet I thank the countess for her unlooked-for cordiality. I do not know what good angel has opened her heart to me; but I am grateful if she will give me a place there."

"The good angel in question was Lord Linden," answered the count, quite seriously. "His lords.h.i.+p called this morning. I left him with my mother."

"Lord Linden?"

"Yes, it was at his suggestion that I hastened here; not that I thought any influence of mine was needed; but just now it is well to keep in with every one, and you must oblige me by permitting Lord Linden to imagine that it was through my advocacy you were induced to look favorably upon his suit."

"That is impossible."

"Not at all; a mere suggestion in your letter will have the desired effect. You have not answered Lord Linden's letter yet,--have you."

"No,--I intend to reply this morning, and"--

"That's right! You will grant me this favor, I know you will! Say that _after having conversed with me_, you accept the offer of his hand."

"I mean to decline it in the most definite manner."

"Decline?" cried Count Tristan, breathing hard, while his face rapidly changed color; for at one moment it was overspread with a death-like pallor, and then, suddenly grew purple. "Decline? Such a thing is not to be thought of; you are jesting?"

"I was never more serious in my life."

"But you will think better of the matter; you will listen to reason; you will reverse your decision," pleaded the count, his nervous incoherence and confusion increasing as he grew more and more agitated. "It's for the honor of the family to say 'yes,' and therefore 'yes' is the proper _answer_,--eh, Madeleine? Don't joke any more, my dear; it troubles me; it gives me such a throbbing and heavy weight in my brain. All's right,--is it not?"

Count Tristan lay back in his chair, and continued muttering, though his words were no longer comprehensible.

Madeleine now began to be alarmed, and, approaching him, said kindly, "Can I give you anything? You are not well. Let me order you a gla.s.s of wine."

He stared at her with vacant, gla.s.sy eyes, while his lips moved and twitched without giving forth any distinct sounds. He lifted up his arms in appeal; they dropped suddenly, as if struck by a giant's invisible hand, and his head fell forward heavily.

Madeleine, greatly terrified, spoke to him again and again, shook him gently by the shoulder, to rouse him,--tried to lift his head; the face she succeeded in turning toward her was frightfully distorted; white foam oozed from the lips; the eyes were suffused with blood. She had never before seen a person in a fit, but instinct told her the nature of the seizure.

Her violent ringing of the bell quickly brought servants to her a.s.sistance, and she ordered Robert to summon Dr. Bayard with the utmost haste.

This distinguished physician p.r.o.nounced the attack apoplexy; and, after applying those remedies which recent discoveries in science have proved most efficacious, ordered the patient to be undressed and put to bed.

Madeleine's own chamber was prepared for the count's use. The attack was of brief duration, and he recovered from its violence soon after the physician arrived, but remained exhausted and insensible.

Another critical case required Dr. Bayard's immediate attendance, and after giving Madeleine minute directions, he took his leave, saying that he would return in a couple of hours.

Then Madeleine, who had been engrossed by the necessity of promptly ministering to the sufferer, remembered that the count's family should at once be made aware of his condition. What a frightful shock the countess would receive when she heard of her son's state! And Maurice and Bertha,--would they not be greatly alarmed? How could intelligence of the calamity be most gently communicated? Should Madeleine write? A note bearing the tidings might startle his mother too much. Madeleine saw but one alternative,--it was to go in person and break the sorrowful news as delicately as possible. She did not waste a moment in pondering upon the manner in which the haughty countess might receive her, but ordered her carriage, and drove to the hotel, leaving Count Tristan under the charge of Ruth, and Mrs. Lawkins, the housekeeper.

Arrived at her destination, Madeleine ordered her servant to inquire for the Viscount de Gramont. He was not at home. Was Mademoiselle de Merrivale at home? The same reply. Was the Countess de Gramont at home?

Madeleine could not help hoping that a negative would again be returned, for she grew sick at heart at the prospect of encountering her aunt alone. The countess was within.

Madeleine's card was requested. She had none. What name should the servant give? Here was another difficulty: she was only known as "_Mademoiselle Melanie_;" she could not make use of her real name; besides, she feared that the countess would deny her admission if made aware who was her visitor. But something must be done. Madame de Gramont had issued orders that prevented any guest from entering her presence without permission. Madeleine asked for a sheet of note-paper, and, with her pencil, hastily wrote,--

"Madeleine entreats the Countess de Gramont to see her for a moment. She has a matter of importance to communicate."

The servant returned almost immediately, and, replacing the note in Madeleine's hand, said, "The Countess de Gramont desires me to say that she is engaged."

"It is absolutely necessary that I should see Madame de Gramont,"

replied Madeleine. "I will bear the blame of her displeasure if you will show me to her apartment."

"The lady is very rigid, ma'am. I don't dare."

"She will be angry at first, I admit," returned Madeleine; "but her dissatisfaction will not last when she knows upon what errand I have come. I can confidently promise you _that_. Perhaps you will consider this money sufficient compensation for her displeasure, should I prove wrong; and if I am right, you can keep it in payment for having served me."

She handed him a piece of gold, which the man took with so little hesitation it left no doubt upon Madeleine's mind that he was well acquainted with the nature of a bribe.

"I'll do what I can, ma'am, if you will take the blame," replied he.

Madeleine alighted, followed him to the door of the room which he designated as the drawing-room of the countess, and then desired him to retire; he obeyed with well-pleased alacrity.

The young girl had been trembling from agitation until that moment; but there was necessity for calmness in executing her mission. She opened the door with a firm hand, and entered the apartment with unfaltering steps.