CHAPTER II.
TWO FRIENDS.
The chateau of Sainte-Gemme, which was some miles from the village ofSens, had belonged to Monsieur Dalize for some years. It was in this oldchateau, which had often been restored, but which still preserved itsdignified appearance, that Monsieur Dalize and his family had come topass the summer.
Monsieur Dalize had become the owner of the property of Sainte-Gemme onhis retirement from business. He came out at the beginning of everyMay, and did not return to Paris until November. During August andSeptember the family was complete, for then it included Albert Dalize,who was on vacation from college. With his wife and his children, Albertand Mariette, Monsieur Dalize was happy, but sometimes there was a cloudupon this happiness. The absence of a friend with whom Monsieur Dalizehad been brought up, and the terrible sorrows which this friend hadexperienced, cast an occasional gloom over the heart of the owner ofSainte-Gemme. This friend was called Roger La Morliere. In the Dalizefamily he was called simply Roger. He was a distinguished chemist. Atthe beginning of his life he had been employed by a manufacturer ofchemicals in Saint-Denis, and the close neighborhood to Paris enabledhim frequently to see his friend Dalize, who had succeeded his father ina banking-house. Later, some flattering offers had drawn him off toNorthern France, to the town of Lille. In this city Roger had found acharming young girl, whom he loved and whose hand he asked in marriage.Monsieur Dalize was one of the witnesses to this marriage, which seemedto begin most happily, although neither party was wealthy. MonsieurDalize had already been married at this time, and husband and wife hadgone to Lille to be present at the union of their friend Roger. Then aterrible catastrophe had occurred. Roger had left France and gone toAmerica. Ten years had now passed. The two friends wrote each otherfrequently. Monsieur Dalize's letters were full of kindly counsels, ofencouragement, of consolation. Roger's, though they were affectionate,showed that he was tired of life, that his heart was in despair.
Still, Monsieur Dalize, in receiving the telegram which announced thereturn of this well-beloved friend, had only thought of the joy ofseeing him again. The idea that this friend, whom he had known once sohappy, would return to him broken by grief had not at first presenteditself to his mind. Now he began to reflect. An overwhelming sorrow hadfallen upon the man, and for ten years he had shrouded himself in theremembrance of this sorrow. What great changes must he have gonethrough! how different he would look from the Roger he had known!
Monsieur Dalize thought over these things, full of anxiety, his eyesfixed upon the shaded alley in front of him.
Miette had softly slipped down from her father's knees, and, seatingherself by his side upon the bench, she remained silent, knowing thatshe had better say nothing at such a time.
Light steps crunched the gravel, and Madame Dalize approached.
Miss Miette had seen her mother coming, but Monsieur Dalize had seennothing and heard nothing.
In great astonishment Madame Dalize asked, addressing herself rather toher daughter than to her husband,--
"What is the matter?"
Miss Miette made a slight motion, as if to say that she had better notanswer; but this time Monsieur Dalize had heard.
He lifted sad eyes to his wife's face.
"Now, where has all the joy of the morning fled, my friend?" askedMadame Dalize. "And why this sudden sadness?"
"Because this child"--and Monsieur Dalize passed his hand through hisdaughter's thick curls--"has reminded me of the sorrows of Roger."
"Miette?" demanded Madame Dalize. "What has she said to you?"
"She simply said, when I spoke to her of Roger, 'The poor gentleman.'And she was right,--the poor gentleman, poor Roger."
"Undoubtedly," answered Madame Dalize; "but ten years have passed sincethat terrible day, and time heals many wounds."
"That is true; but I know Roger, and I know that he has forgottennothing."
"Of course, forgetfulness would not be easy to him over there, in thatlong, solitary exile; but once he has returned here to us, near hisfamily, his wounds will have a chance to heal; and, in any case," addedMadame Dalize, taking her husband's hand, "he will have at hand twodoctors who are profoundly devoted."
"Yes, my dear wife, you are right; and if he can be cured, we will knowhow to cure him."
Madame Dalize took the telegram from her husband's hands, and readthis:
"=Monsieur Dalize=, Chateau de Sainte-Gemme, at Sens:
"=Friend=,--I am on my way home. Learn at Paris that you are at Sainte-Gemme. May I come there at once?"
"=Roger.="
"And you answered him?"
"I answered, 'We are awaiting you with the utmost impatience. Take thefirst train.'"
"Will that first train be the eleven-o'clock train?"
"No; I think that Roger will not be able to take the express. The manwith the telegram will not have reached Sens soon enough, even if hehurried, as he promised he would. Then, the time taken to send thedespatch, to receive it in Paris, and to take it to Roger's addresswould make it more than eleven. So our friend will have to take the nexttrain; and you cannot count upon his being here before five o'clock."
"Oh!" cried Miss Miette, in a disappointed tone.
"What is the matter, my child?" asked Monsieur Dalize.
"Why, I think----"
"What do you think?"
"Well, papa," Miss Miette at last said, "I think that the railroads andthe telegrams are far too slow."
Monsieur Dalize could not suppress a smile at hearing this exclamation.He turned to his wife, and said,--
"See, how hurried is this younger generation. They think that steam andelectricity are too slow."
And, turning around to his daughter, he continued,--
"What would you like to have?"
"Why," answered the girl, "I would like to have Monsieur Roger here atonce."
Her wish was to be fulfilled sooner than she herself could foresee.