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"
"You are a fortunate mother and--" began Camille, stopping short as
she remembered that Beatrix must have parted from her son when she
left her husband's house.
"Oh, yes!" said the viscountess; "if I have the misfortune of spending
my life in the country, and, above all, at Nantes, I have at least the
consolation of being adored by my children. Have you children?" she
said to Camille.
"I am Mademoiselle des Touches," replied Camille. "Madame is the
Marquise de Rochefide."
"Then I must pity you for not knowing the greatest happiness that
there is for us poor, simple women--is not that so, madame?" said the
viscountess, turning to Beatrix. "But you, mademoiselle, have so many
compensations."
The tears came into Madame de Rochefide's eyes, and she turned away
toward the parapet to hide them. Calyste followed her.
"Madame," said Camille, in a low voice to the viscountess, "are you
not aware that the marquise is separated from her husband? She has not
seen her son for two years, and does not know when she will see him."
"You don't say so!" said Madame de Kergarouet.


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