"If I leave this house, I can never come back to it again," he said to
himself. "The Vicomtesse will always think of me as a fool. It is
impossible that a woman, and such a woman, should not guess the love
that she has called forth. Perhaps she feels a little, vague,
involuntary regret for dismissing me so abruptly.--But she could not
do otherwise, and she cannot recall her sentence. It rests with me to
understand her."
At that thought Gaston stopped short on the flight of steps with an
exclamation; he turned sharply, saying, "I have forgotten something,"
and went back to the salon. The lackey, all respect for a baron and
the rights of property, was completely deceived by the natural
utterance, and followed him. Gaston returned quietly and unannounced.
The Vicomtesse, thinking that the intruder was the servant, looked up
and beheld M. de Nueil.
"Jacques lighted me to the door," he said, with a half-sad smile which
dispelled any suspicion of jest in those words, while the tone in
which they were spoken went to the heart. Mme. de Beauseant was
disarmed.
"Very well, take a seat," she said.
Gaston eagerly took possession of a chair. His eyes were shining with
happiness; the Vicomtesse, unable to endure the brilliant light in
them, looked down at the book. She was enjoying a delicious, ever new
sensation; the sense of a man's delight in her presence is an
unfailing feminine instinct.
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