"How attentive they are," said Blanche, "really they treat me like a queen. Urbain must have told them to take every care of me."
Blanche rang and Marie answered, but she was followed by Germain, who did not wish to lose sight of the chambermaid before the arrival of his master for fear she might inform Blanche of that which he still wished to conceal.
"Was this table laid for me?" said Blanche.
"Yes, mademoiselle," answered Germain, "I thought you would need some breakfast. Excuse me if I offer you nothing but that, but not being forewarned--"
"Nothing but that! You are laughing, no doubt. There is enough here to suffice ten persons, and at M. Touquet's we never had more than two dishes for our dinner."
Blanche seated herself at the table. Germain remained at some distance, and Marie served her without opening her mouth, but curtseyed to her every time that she handed her a dish. So much ceremony fatigued the young girl, who was accustomed to a simple, frugal life. She soon left the table and evinced a desire to walk in the park. Germain immediately led her through a gallery and several passages to a staircase, at the foot of which was an entrance to the gardens. Blanche breathed more freely in the meadows than under the sculptured ceilings of the château. She left the borders of the lake, crossed a little wood and found herself presently in what was designated as the English park, of which the paths crossed each other and formed a thousand detours, but when Blanche turned she always saw Germain in the distance, who had never lost sight of her.
"He's no doubt afraid that I shall lose myself," said she, "this is all so vast that it would be easy to lose one's way."
Blanche returned to the château; Germain led her back to her apartments, and then asked at what hour she wished to dine.
"I would much rather wait and sup with Urbain, for he will come this evening, will he not, monsieur?"
"I think so," answered the valet, bowing, and he departed, leaving her sad and thoughtful, for these words, "I think so," did not seem positive enough for her. She stationed herself on one of the balconies which looked on the lake and there, her eyes fixed on the horizon, gave herself up to her thoughts, and invoked the night which should reunite her with her lover. Soon her eyes could not distinguish distant objects, a light mist seemed to rise and obscure the scene; presently the perspective diminished, the horizon dosed in; finally, she could see only a few steps before her, and Blanche left the balcony, saying,--