tave’s message to me was that the duchess desired to see me.
“Nay,” said I, “there is one thing I want to do before that;” and I called to a servant girl who was hovering between terror and excitement at the events of the evening, and asked her whether Mme. Delhasse had returned.
“No, sir,” she answered. “The lady left word that she would be back in half an hour, but she has not yet returned.”
Then I said to Gustave de Berensac, laying my hand on his shoulder:
“When I am married, Gustave, you will not meet my mother-in-law in my house;” and I left Gustave staring in an amazement not unnatural to his ignorance. And I allowed myself to be directed by the servant girl to where the duchess sat.
The duchess waited till the door was shut, and then turned to me as if about to speak, but I was beforehand with her; and I began:
“Forgive me for speaking of the necklace, but I fear it is still missing.”
The duchess looked at me scornfully.
“He gave it to the girl again, I suppose?” she asked.
“He gave it,” I answered, “to the girl’s mother, and she, I fear, has made off with it;” and I told the duchess how Mme. Delhasse had laid her plot. The duchess heard me in silence, but at the end she remarked:
“It does not matter. I would never have worn the thing again; but it was a pretty plot between them.”
