gentleman."
"But, grandmamma" —
"Leave me — go!" The young girl kissed her grandmother, and left
with her handkerchief to her eyes; at the door she found the valet
de chambre, who told her that the doctor was waiting in the
dining-room. Valentine instantly ran down. The doctor was a friend
of the family, and at the same time one of the cleverest men of the
day, and very fond of Valentine, whose birth he had witnessed. He
had himself a daughter about her age, but whose life was one
continued source of anxiety and fear to him from her mother having
been consumptive.
"Oh," said Valentine, "we have been waiting for you with such
impatience, dear M. d'Avrigny. But, first of all, how are Madeleine
and Antoinette?" Madeleine was the daughter of M. d'Avrigny, and
Antoinette his niece. M. d'Avrigny smiled sadly. "Antoinette is
very well," he said, "and Madeleine tolerably so. But you sent for
me, my dear child. It is not your father or Madame de Villefort who
is ill. As for you, although we doctors cannot divest our patients
of nerves, I fancy you have no further need of me than to recommend
you not to allow your imagination to take too wide a field."
Valentine colored. M. d'Avrigny carried the science of divination
almost to a miraculous extent, for he was one of the physicians who
always work upon the body through the mind. "No," she replied, "it
is for my poor grandmother. You know the calamity that has happened
to us, do you not?"
"I know nothing." said M. d'Avrigny.
"Alas," said Valentine, restraining her tears, "my grandfather
is dead."
"M. de Saint-Meran?"
"Yes."
"Suddenly?"
"From an apoplectic stroke."
"An apoplectic stroke?" repeated the doctor.
"Yes, and my poor grandmother fancies that her husband, whom she
never left, has called her, and that she must go and join him. Oh,
M. d'Avrigny, I beseech you, do something for her!"
"Where is she?"
"In her room with the notary."
"And M. Noirtier?"
"Just as he was, his mind perfectly clear, but the same
incapability of moving or speaking.""Just as he was, his mind perfectly clear, but the same
incapability of moving or speaking."
"And the same love for you — eh, my dear child?"
"Yes," said Valentine, "he was very fond of me."
"Who does not love you?" Valentine smiled sadly. "What are your
grandmother's symptoms?"
"An extreme nervous excitement and a strangely agitated sleep;
she fancied this morning in her sleep that her soul was hovering
above her body, which she at the same time watched. It must have
been delirium; she fancies, too, that she saw a phantom enter her
chamber and even heard the noise it made on touching her
glass."
"It is singular," said the doctor; "I was not aware that Madame
de Saint-Meran was subject to such hallucinations."
"It is the first time I ever saw her in this condition," said
Valentine; "and this morning she frightened me so that I thought
her mad; and my father, who you know is a strong-minded man,
himself appeared deeply impressed."
"We will go and see," said the doctor; "what you tell me seems
very strange." The notary here descended, and Valentine was
informed that her grandmother was alone. "Go upstairs," she said to
the doctor.
"And you?"
"Oh, I dare not — she forbade my sending for you; and, as you
say, I am myself agitated, feverish and out of sorts. I will go and
take a turn in the garden to recover myself." The doctor pressed
Valentine's hand, and while he visited her grandmother, she
descended the steps. We need not say which portion of the garden
was her favorite walk. After remaining for a short time in the
parterre surrounding the house, and gathering a rose to place in
her waist or hair, she turned into the dark avenue which led to the
bench; then from the bench she went to the gate. As usual,
Valentine strolled for a short time among her flowers, but without
gathering them. The mourning in her heart forbade her assuming this
simple ornament, though she had not yet had time to put on the
outward semblance of woe. She then turned towards the avenue. Asoutward semblance of woe. She then turned towards the avenue. As
she advanced she fancied she heard a voice speaking her name. She
stopped astonished, then the voice reached her ear more distinctly,
and she recognized it to be that of Maximilian.It was, indeed, Maximilian Morrel, who had passed a wretched
existence since the previous day. With the instinct peculiar to
lovers he had anticipated after the return of Madame de Saint-Meran
and the death of the marquis, that something would occur at M. de
Villefort's in connection with his attachment for Valentine. His
presentiments were realized, as we shall see, and his uneasy
forebodings had goaded him pale and trembling to the gate under the
chestnut-trees. Valentine was ignorant of the cause of this sorrow
and anxiety, and as it was not his accustomed hour for visiting
her, she had gone to the spot simply by accident or perhaps through
sympathy. Morrel called her, and she ran to the gate. "You here at
this hour?" said she. "Yes, my poor girl," replied Morrel; "I come
to bring and to hear bad tidings."
"This is, indeed, a house of mourning," said Valentine; "speak,
Maximilian, although the cup of sorrow seems already full."
"Dear Valentine," said Morrel, endeavoring to conceal his own
emotion, "listen, I entreat you; what I am about to say is very
serious. When are you to be married?"
"I will tell you all," said Valentine; "from you I have nothing
to conceal. This morning the subject was introduced, and my dear
grandmother, on whom I depended as my only support, not only
declared herself favorable to it, but is so anxious for it, that
they only await the arrival of M. d'Epinay, and the following day
the contract will be signed." A deep sigh escaped the young man,
who gazed long and mournfully at her he loved. "Alas," replied he,
"it is dreadful thus to hear my condemnation from your own lips.
The sentence is passed, and, in a few hours, will be executed; it
must be so, and I will not endeavor to prevent it. But, since you
say nothing remains but for M. d'Epinay to arrive that the contract
may be signed, and the following day you will be his, to-morrow you
will be engaged to M. d'Epinay, for he came this morning to Paris."
Valentine uttered a cry.