Enveloped in a voluminous robe de chambre, Leodgard took Jarnonville's arm, and left his apartment at last, to go to the wing occupied by Bathilde and her child.

But, despite all his resolution, the convalescent, whose legs shook and wavered, could go only very slowly, and a servant hastened before him to announce to the countess her husband's coming.

When she learned that Leodgard had insisted upon coming to see his daughter, Bathilde could not restrain a joyful cry; and she lovingly embraced the little invalid, saying to her:

"It is on your account that he comes, dear child, it is you who bring him back to me!--Oh! I am well aware that it is not I whom he wishes to see, but I shall not go away, for I never leave you; from the instant that you are suffering, my place is with you! And your father must needs endure my presence, if he wishes to have a share in nursing you."

As for Ambroisine, who also was beside the child's cradle, she went at once into another room; for in that first interview between the husband and wife a witness would have been in the way.

Slow and heavy steps announced the count's arrival. Bathilde seated herself at some little distance from her daughter's cradle; but when Leodgard entered the room, leaning on Jarnonville's arm, she could not refrain from looking at him, and she was painfully impressed by the tremendous change in his whole appearance. Considerably thinner than of old, extremely pale, and with naught reminiscent of his large eyes save a feverish and sombre fire, the Comte de Marvejols was no more than the shadow of his former self. But in Bathilde's eyes he was still the man whom she adored, the father of her child; and she was obliged to make a mighty effort to keep from rushing to him and throwing herself into his arms.

Leodgard simply bent his head to his wife. His eyes sought his daughter's cradle, and when he espied it he dropped the chevalier's arm, went forward alone, put aside the curtains that covered it, and sat down beside it. Blanche was at the point of waking; her sweet face was purple and swollen as a result of her disease; but she smiled when she woke, and on recognizing Leodgard she cried:

"Oh! my friend! my friend! he not sick too! he come to see Blanche!"

The count leaned over the cradle and covered the child with kisses.

Bathilde turned her head away to hide her tears; but they were not unpleasant, and she did not try to restrain them.

"Does the doctor still say that there is no danger?" asked Leodgard, addressing Jarnonville; but he pretended not to hear, in order to compel the count to address his wife.

Seeing that the chevalier persisted in not replying, Leodgard made up his mind to turn to Bathilde; whereupon the young woman murmured, without looking at her husband:

"My daughter has now reached the point where her disease is at its height; but to-night, about midnight, the doctor says that the fever should begin to abate; he has a.s.sured me that Blanche is in no danger."

"But this extreme redness----"

"Is characteristic of this fever. It worried me too, but the doctor declares that it is better that it should be so.--But you, monsieur le comte--I thought that you were not allowed to leave your bed yet; is it not imprudent?"

"Your husband would not listen to reason, madame," said Jarnonville; "his desire to see his daughter was stronger than any words of mine!"

Leodgard looked up at the chevalier and smiled slightly.

"Ah!" he murmured; "you seem to be talking now, Jarnonville!"

Then, turning again toward his daughter, he said:

"Little darling! I am terribly bored, being deprived of your visits!--Get well very soon; but meanwhile it is my turn to come to see you, and I will come."

"Every day?" whispered Blanche.

"Oh, yes! every day! Au revoir, my child, au revoir!"

And the count rose, bowed to Bathilde, took the chevalier's arm, and returned to his apartment.

But the next day it was impossible for Leodgard to rise; the exertion of the preceding day had reopened his wound. The doctor scolded him roundly for his imprudence, and the count was fain to be content with hearing from his daughter every instant of the day. Luckily, the reports were excellent; the malady was abating, and the recovery would be rapid.

Blanche should be brought to him as soon as it could be done without danger to her.

Four days more had elapsed, when, on waking one morning, Leodgard found Blanche on his bed. He threw his arms about her and covered her with kisses.

"Friend still sick?" asked the little girl, smiling at her father. But he gazed fondly at her, saying:

"You must not say _friend_, dear love; after this, call me _father_--do you understand?--father; for you are my daughter, and I am proud of you.--Oh! why did I not know this happiness sooner--this inward satisfaction which a man feels in pressing his child in his arms!--But I did not believe in it until I possessed you. I was still blind, and I denied the light!"

Joys of the heart are always the best remedy for all ills. As soon as he saw his daughter once more, Leodgard rapidly improved; he was soon well enough to rise and walk about his room; but to make him perfectly comfortable, Blanche must be with him. He seemed to become more attached to her every day. Albeit vastly surprised by the power which the child exerted over his heart, he did not try to combat it; on the contrary, he abandoned himself to it with delight, for he realized that the unfamiliar sensation that he felt was the only one which causes us to enjoy true happiness.

Sometimes, however, as he held his daughter on his knee, with his eyes resting on her lovely eyes, Leodgard would suddenly become depressed and thoughtful, and a livid pallor would overspread his features. Then, putting Blanche on the floor, he would walk hurriedly away from her, hiding his face in his hands, and muttering:

"Poor child! Suppose that some day she should learn--that somebody should tell her that her father---- She would curse me, perhaps!--Oh!

the mere thought is terrible! it is my most cruel punishment!"

And Leodgard would remain as if crushed by his thoughts; but Blanche, unable to understand why her father had suddenly turned his back on her, would run to him and take his hand, saying in her sweet voice:

"Papa, don't you love Blanche any more?"

The little angel's tones very soon made their way to her father's heart, and, like a ray of sunshine, dissipated the storm that had gathered there.

XLIX

WOMAN CHANGES

"Woman's moods are light as air; Foolish he who trusts the fair!"

After his duel with Leodgard, the Marquis de Santoval returned to his hotel and went at once to his wife, who was anxiously awaiting the result of the meeting, which she herself had brought about, between the count and her husband.

When the marquis appeared with a triumphant air, Valentine was conscious of a thrill of horror which went to her heart.

"You are avenged, madame, completely avenged!" said Monsieur de Santoval, as he saluted his wife.

"Ah! I was very anxious, monsieur!"

"I thank you for your anxiety. But with me you need have had no fear!"

"Did you--meet--the Comte de Marvejols?"

"Yes, madame; you may be sure that he would not fail to accept your amiable invitation. One has not such a charming rendezvous every evening!--And that fellow is so conceited! he could not fail to fall into the trap!"

"And how did it come about?"

"As naturally as possible. The count was rather surprised to see me; however, he tried to throw dust in my eyes. But as I was in haste to have done, I told him frankly the whole truth."

"Ah! you told him----"

"That you had made a fool of him, that you were very glad to give him a lesson, without which your vengeance would have been incomplete!--Ah! if you knew how frantic the handsome seducer became at that!"