"My child," said she, "I leave you after supper."
"So soon!" said Helene, to whom Therese was now the only link to her past life.
"Yes, my child. It is at my option to sleep here, but I prefer to return at once; for I wish to be again at home, where the only thing wanting to my happiness will be your presence."
Helene threw herself on Therese's neck, weeping. She recalled her youth, passed so happily among affectionate companions, and she again saw the towers and steeples of her former residence.
They sat down to table, and Sister Therese hastily partook of some refreshment, then embraced Helene, who wished to accompany her to the carriage; but Madame Desroches begged her not to do so, as the hotel was full of strangers.
Helene then asked permission to see the poor gardener, who had been their escort, once more. This man had become a friend to her, and she quitted him and Therese sadly.
Madame Desroches, seeing that Helene felt vainly in her pocket, said, "Does mademoiselle want anything?"
"Yes," said Helene; "I should wish to give a souvenir to this good man."
Madame Desroches gave Helene twenty-five louis, and she, without counting them, slipped them into the gardener's hand, who overwhelmed her with tears and thanks.
At length they were forced to part, and Helene, hearing the sound of their carriage driving away, threw herself on a sofa, weeping.
Madame Desroches reminded her that she had eaten nothing. Helene insisted that she should sup with her. After her meal she showed Helene her bedroom, saying, "Will mademoiselle ring when she requires her femme-de-chambre; for this evening mademoiselle will receive a visit."
"A visit!" cried Helene.
"Yes, mademoiselle; from a relation."
"And is it the one who watches over me?"
"From your birth, mademoiselle."
"Oh, mon Dieu!" cried Helene; "and he is coming?"
"He is most anxious to know you."
"Oh," murmured Helene; "I feel as if I should faint."
Madame Desroches ran to her, and supported her.
"Do you feel so much terror," asked she, "at seeing one who loves you?"
"It is not terror, it is agitation," said Helene. "I did not know that it would be to-night; and this important news quite overcomes me."
"But I have not told you all: this person is necessarily surrounded by mystery."
"Why so?"
"I am forbidden to reply to that question, mademoiselle."
"What necessity can there be for such precautions with a poor orphan like me?"
"They are necessary, believe me."
"But in what do they consist?"
"Firstly, you may not see the face of this person; so that you may not recognize him if you meet him in the world."
"Then he will come masked?"
"No, mademoiselle: but the lights will be extinguished."
"Then we shall be in darkness?"
"Yes."
"But you will remain with me, Madame Desroches."
"No, mademoiselle; that is expressly forbidden."
"By whom?"
"By the person who is coming."
"But do you, then, owe such absolute obedience to this person?"
"More than that, mademoiselle, I owe him the deepest respect."
"Is he, then, of such high station?"
"He is of the very highest in France."
"And he is my relation?"
"The nearest."
"For Heaven's sake, Madame Desroches, do not leave me in uncertainty on this point."
"I have already told you, mademoiselle, that there are some questions to which I am expressly forbidden to reply," and she was about to retire.
"Why do you leave me?" asked Helene.
"I leave you to your toilet."
"But, madame – "
Madame Desroches made a low, ceremonious curtsey, and went out of the room, closing the door behind her.
CHAPTER VII.
A SERVANT IN THE ROYAL LIVERY. – MONSEIGNEUR LE DUC D'ORLEANS