. Monsieur Lecoq & The honor of the name . , she would have been almost happy if shecould only have had some news of Maurice. What had becomeof him? Why did he give no sign of life? She would havegiven anything in exchange for one word of love and counselfrom him. Soon the time approached when she would requirea confidant; and yet there was no one in whom she daredconfide. In her dire need she at last remembered the old physi-cian at Vigano, who had been one of the witnesses at her mar-riage. She had no time to reflect whether he would be willingor not; but wrote to him immediately, entrusting
. Monsieur Lecoq & The honor of the name . , she would have been almost happy if shecould only have had some news of Maurice. What had becomeof him? Why did he give no sign of life? She would havegiven anything in exchange for one word of love and counselfrom him. Soon the time approached when she would requirea confidant; and yet there was no one in whom she daredconfide. In her dire need she at last remembered the old physi-cian at Vigano, who had been one of the witnesses at her mar-riage. She had no time to reflect whether he would be willingor not; but wrote to him immediately, entrusting her letter toa youth in the neighborhood. The gentleman says you mayrely upon him, said the lad on his return. And that veryevening Marie-Anne was roused by a rap at her door. It wasthe kind-hearted old man, who had hastened to her relief. Heremained at the Borderie nearly a fortnight, and when he leftone morning before daybreak, he took away with him under hiscloak an infant—a little boy—whom he had sworn to cherishas his own T T had cost Blanche an almost superhuman effort to leave?*? Sairmeuse without treating the duke to a display of violence,such as would have fairly astonished even that irascible noble-man. She was tortured with inward rage at the very moment, THE HONOR OF THE NAME 529 when, with an assumption of melancholy dignity, she murmuredthe words of forgiveness we have previously recorded. Rutvanity, after all. was more powerful than resentment. Shethought of the gladiators who fall in the arena with a smile ontheir lips, and resolved that no one should see her weep, thatno one should hear her threaten or complain. Indeed, on herreturn to the Chateau de Courtornieu her behavior was trulyworthy of a stoic philosopher. Her face was pale, but not amuscle of her features moved as the servants glanced at herinquisitively. I am to be called mademoiselle as formerly,she said imperiously. Any of you forgetting this order willbe at once dismissed. One maid did
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