Hence the astonishment, which, for many serious reasons, M.de Montbron had no longer been able to conceal, and which his looks betrayed to Adrienne.The latter, having completely forgotten the presence of the accusing volumes by which she was surrounded, yielded to a movement of involuntary confusion, and blushed slightly; but, her firm and resolute character again coming to her aid, she looked full at M.de Montbron, and said to him: "Well, my dear count! what surprises you?"
Instead of answering, M.de Montbron appeared still more absorbed in thought, and contemplating the young girl, he could not forbear saying to himself: "No, no--it is impossible--and yet--"
"It would, perhaps, be indiscreet in me to listen to your soliloquy, my dear count," said Adrienne.
"Excuse me, my dear child; but what I see surprises me so much--"
"And pray what do you see?"
"The traces of so great and novel an interest in all that relates to India," said M.de Montbron, laying a slight stress on his words, and fixing a piercing look upon the young girl.
"Well!" said Adrienne, stoutly.
"Well! I seek the cause of this sudden passion--"
"Geographical?" said Mdlle.de Cardoville, interrupting M.de Montbron:
"you may find this taste somewhat serious for my age my dear count--but one must find occupation for leisure hours--and then, having a cousin, who is both an Indian and a prince, I should like to know something of the fortunate country from which I derive this savage relationship."
These last words were pronounced with a bitterness that was not lost on M.de Montbron: watching Adrienne attentively, he observed: "Meseems, you speak of the prince with some harshness."
"No; I speak of him with indifference."
"Yet he deserves a very different feeling."
"On the part of some other person, perhaps," replied Adrienne, dryly.
"He is so unhappy!" said M, de Montbron, in a tone of sincere pity.
"When I saw him the other day, he made my heart ache."
"What have I to do with it?" exclaimed Adrienne, with an accent of painful and almost angry impatience.
"I should have thought that his cruel torments at least deserved your pity," answered the count gravely.
"Pity--from me!" cried Adrienne, with an air of offended pride.Then restraining herself, she added coldly: "You are jesting, M.de Montbron.
It is not in sober seriousness that you ask me to take interest in the amorous torments of your prince."
There was so much cold disdain in these last words of Adrienne, her pale and agitated countenance betrayed such haughty bitterness, that M.de Montbron said, sorrowfully: "It is then true; I have not been deceived.
I, who thought, from our old and constant friendship, that I had some claim to your confidence have known nothing of it--while you told all to another.It is painful, very painful to me."
"I do not understand you, M.de Montbron."
"Well then, since I must speak plainly," cried the count, "there is, I see, no hope for this unhappy boy--you love another."
As Adrienne started--"Oh! you cannot deny it," resumed the count; "your paleness and melancholy for the last few days, your implacable indifference to the prince--all prove to me that you are in love."
Hurt by the manner in which the count spoke of the sentiment he attributed to her, Mdlle.de Cardoville answered with dignified stateliness: "You must know, M.de Montbron, that a secret discovered is not a confidence.Your language surprises me.
