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"Poor lady! is she
legally separated?"
"No, by mutual consent," replied Camille.
"Ah, well! I understand that," said the viscountess boldly.
Old Mademoiselle de Pen-Hoel, furious at being thus dragged into the
enemy's camp, had retreated to a short distance with her dear
Charlotte. Calyste, after looking about him to make sure that no one
could see him, seized the hand of the marquise, kissed it, and left a
tear upon it. Beatrix turned round, her tears dried by anger; she was
about to utter some terrible word, but it died upon her lips as she
saw the grief on the angelic face of the youth, as deeply touched by
her present sorrow as she was herself.
"Good heavens, Calyste!" said Camille in his ear, as he returned with
Madame de Rochefide, "are you to have /that/ for a mother-in-law, and
the little one for a wife?"
"Because her aunt is rich," replied Calyste, sarcastically.
The whole party now moved toward the inn, and the viscountess felt
herself obliged to make Camille a speech on the savages of
Saint-Nazaire.
"I love Brittany, madame," replied Camille, gravely.


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