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"I was born at
Guerande."
Calyste could not help admiring Mademoiselle des Touches, who, by the
tone of her voice, the tranquillity of her look, and her quiet manner,
put him at his ease, in spite of the terrible declarations of the
preceding night. She seemed, however, a little fatigued; her eyes were
enlarged by dark circles round them, showing that he had not slept;
but the brow dominated the inward storm with cold placidity.
"What queens!" he said to Charlotte, calling her attention to the
marquise and Camille as he gave the girl his arm, to Mademoiselle de
Pen-Hoel's great satisfaction.
"What an idea your mother has had," said the old maid, taking her
niece's other arm, "to put herself in the company of that reprobate
woman!"
"Oh, aunt, a woman who is the glory of Brittany!"
"The shame, my dear. Mind that you don't fawn upon her in that way."
"Mademoiselle Charlotte is right," said Calyste; "you are not just."
"Oh, you!" replied Mademoiselle de Pen-Hoel, "she has bewitched you."
"I regard her," said Calyste, "with the same friendship that I feel
for you.


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