ted
with consciousness, must have trembled at his approach; his nervous
fingers thrust themselves into his hair, and threw it into ludicrous
disorder; his countenance was suffused with scarlet; he stammered out
something about bidding adieu, which the ladies were evidently at a loss
to comprehend, until Maurice explained that M. de Bois expected to start
on the morrow for Paris, where he purposed to take up his residence.

"We shall regret losing so valued a neighbor!" observed the countess,
condescendingly.

Bertha made no remark, though she looked as though she wished to speak,
and could not summon resolution. She took an opportunity, while the
countess was conversing with their guest, to whisper to her cousin,--

"You asked M. de Bois, and he could give you no information concerning
Madeleine?"

"None at all," replied Maurice in a low tone. Then, turning to the
countess, he said aloud, "I also must bid you adieu, my grandmother; I
am going immediately to Rennes; if I obtain the information there, which
I think probable, I shall start at once for Scotland and seek Lady
Vivian."

"You have not consulted your father, Maurice," the countess answered,
with an emphasis which was intended to remind him that he was not a free
agent.

"I must beg you to make my apologies to him."

Maurice, though he treated his grandmother with deference which left her
no room for complaint, could not force himself to assume his wonted air
of affection; his love for her had waned from the hour he listened to
the unjust accusation, the reproaches, the contumely she had heaped upon
the innocent and unfortunate orphan placed at her mercy. The softening
veil had fallen from her character, and disclosed its harsh, proud
selfishness and policy. He now knew that she had offered her destitute
relative shelter, not from any genuine, womanly feeling of tenderness
and compassion, but simply because she deemed it humiliating to allow
one who bore her name to be placed in a doubtful and friendless
position. All Madeleine's gentleness, cheerfulness, diligence to please,
had failed to melt her aunt's impenetrable heart and make it expand to
yield her a sacred place; the countess had misinterpreted her highest
virtues,--grossly insulted her by attributing shameful motives to her
most disinterested conduct, and destroyed all the merit of her own
benefactions by reminding the recipient of her indebtedness. Maurice
felt that, truly to venerate a person