Horatia was far enough from guessing the source of the preoccupation which was visible in him during the last few days of their stay at Kerfontaine, nor had she the faintest idea why he was in such good spirits the morning that they left Chartres. He judged it wiser, however, not to put his plan into operation for two or three days after their return to the Hôtel de la Roche-Guyon, which still lacked the presence of Emmanuel and his son, but which was re-adorned by that of the Duchesse. On the fourth morning he came into Horatia's boudoir looking unusually grave, with his hands full of papers.
"I have something to tell you, my dear, which you will not like hearing, I am afraid," he said, looking down at her as she sat at her writing table, an unfinished letter to her father under her hand.
Horatia's colour went. "No bad news from England, I hope?" she said, and looking at her frail, startled face, Armand had a momentary pang of remorse for what he was about to do. But it did not turn him from his purpose, and he told her, gently, and with apparent consideration, that all communication between the Hôtel and Madame de Vigerie must cease for the present. The Government was opening a wakeful eye upon both parties and was only waiting for some tangible evidence of conspiracy to move against them. He had this information, he said, from an unimpeachable source.
Horatia said very little, only her eyes slowly filled with tears, and seeing this Armand went away to the mantelpiece behind her. He was enjoying his ingenuity less than he had expected.
"Then I cannot write to her, for you will not be seeing her either?" came his wife's voice after a moment.
"No, certainly I shall not be seeing her," replied the Comte, studying the Rector's coal-black profile, and wishing that this further sacrifice to truth were not involved in his plan. "It would be very serious for her if she became further suspect to the Government; it would be very serious for me also. Even my friend might lose his place if it were known that he had warned us. I daresay that it will only be for a time.... Of course I need not ask for your promise, Horatia, that you will not communicate with her in any way?"
She made no answer, and looking round Armand saw that she had her handkerchief to her eyes, though not a sound escaped her. He bit his lip, hesitated, then went and bent over her.
