CHAPTER III.

THE WARNING.

At first Suzanne felt strongly inclined to inform Madame Cloarek of the momentous events which had occurred that day, but after reflecting on the effect this news might have upon the young wife, she abandoned that idea and resolved to confine herself to an effort to make her mistress devise some pretext for preventing M. Cloarek from attending the masquerade ball, realising that such an audacious act on his part might have the most disastrous consequences.

Suzanne's position was extremely trying, for it was necessary for her to conceal the events of the day from her mistress, on the one hand, and yet implore her to use her influence over her husband to prevent him from going to this entertainment, on the other.

She was consequently in a very perplexed frame of mind when she entered the apartment of her mistress, who, without being really beautiful in the general acceptation of the word, had a remarkably sweet and attractive face, though the extreme pallor of her complexion and her frail appearance generally indicated very delicate health.

Jenny Cloarek, seated beside a swinging crib, the silken curtains of which were closely drawn, was occupied with some embroidery, while with her little foot she occasionally imparted a gentle oscillatory motion to the little bed in which her five-year-old daughter was reposing. It was night, and the soft light of a lamp illumined the peaceful picture.

When Suzanne entered the room, Madame Cloarek held up a finger warningly, and said to her, in a low tone:

"Don't make a noise, Suzanne. My little Sabine is just going to sleep."

And as the maid approached on tiptoe her mistress added: "Has my husband returned yet?"

"No, madame."

"His going out so early this morning upset me for all day, for I was asleep when he came back, and so long a time seldom elapses without my seeing him. By the way, is his costume finished, and is it a success? You know I promised my husband I would make no attempt to see it until I could see it on him."

"It is very handsome, madame."

"And you think it will prove becoming?"

"Extremely, madame."

"I am almost sorry now that I made up my mind not to go to this entertainment. I never attended a masquerade ball in my life, and I should have enjoyed it immensely; but I shall enjoy Yvon's account of it almost as much, provided he does not stay too late, for I feel rather more tired and weak than usual to-day, it seems to me."

"Madame does not feel as well as usual this evening?"

"No; still I do not complain, for it is one of those sufferings that promise me new joys," she added, with a smile of ineffable sweetness.

As she spoke the young mother leaned forward and cautiously parted the curtains of the crib, then after a moment of blissful contemplation she added, as she again settled herself in her armchair:

"The dear little thing is sleeping very sweetly, now. Ah, my good Suzanne, with a husband and child like mine, what more could I ask for in this world, unless it be a little better health so I may be able to nurse my next child, for do you know, Suzanne, I used to be dreadfully jealous of you for acting as part mother to my little Sabine? But now my health is better, it seems to me I have nothing more to ask for. Even my dear Yvon's impetuosity, which used to cause me so much uneasiness, seems to have subsided of late. Poor fellow, how often I witnessed his efforts to overcome, not a fault, but his very nature. Had it been a fault, with his energy and determination of character, he would have overcome it years and years ago; but at last, thank Heaven, his disposition seems to have become much more even."

"Undoubtedly, madame," replied Suzanne, "monsieur's temper is much more even now."

"And when I think how kind and gentle he has always been to me," continued the young wife, tenderly, "and how I have never been the object or the cause of any of the terrible ebullitions of temper which I have witnessed with so much terror, and which have often proved so disastrous in their consequences to him, I realise how devotedly he must love me!"

"He would indeed be a madman to fly in a passion with one as kind and gentle as you, my poor dear lady."

"Hush, flatterer," replied Jenny, smiling. "It is not my amiability of disposition, but his love for me that prevents it, and though I am almost ashamed to confess it, I cannot help feeling proud sometimes when I think that I have never excited any feeling but the tenderest consideration in such an impassioned and indomitable nature."

"Monsieur is really one of the best-hearted men in the world, madame, and, as you say, it must be his temperament that carries him away in spite of himself, for unfortunately with characters like these the merest trifle may lead to a terrible explosion."

"What you say is so true, Suzanne, that my poor husband, in order not to expose himself to dangers of that kind, spends nearly all his evenings at home with me instead of seeking amusement as so many persons do in public places where his quick temper might involve him in endless difficulties."

"I think, madame, with you, that for your own peace of mind, and monsieur's as well, it is advisable to avoid all places where there is any danger of one's anger being aroused, so, madame, if you will take my advice--"

"Well, Suzanne, why do you pause so suddenly? What is the matter?"

"I--I--"

"Go on, Suzanne."

"Don't you fear that the masquerade ball this evening--"

"Well?"

"Is a rather dangerous place for monsieur to go?"

"What an absurd idea!"

"There will be a great many people there."

"True; but they will be the best people in town, as the ball is given by the father-in-law of the presiding judge."

"Undoubtedly, madame, but I think I have heard that people chaff each other a good deal at these masquerade balls, and if monsieur, being quick-tempered, should take offence--"

"You are right, Suzanne. I had not thought of that."

"I don't like to worry you, madame, still--"

"On the other hand, my husband is too much of a gentleman, and too used to the ways of the world, to take offence at any of the liberties permissible at such an entertainment; besides, his intimate relations with the court over which M. Bonneval's son-in-law presides make it almost obligatory upon him to attend this ball, for it having been agreed that all the members of the court should go, Yvon's absence might be considered a mark of disrespect to the presiding judge, to whom my husband is really subordinate."

"My poor lady! if she but knew how her husband evinces his subordination to the presiding judge," thought Suzanne.

"No, you need have no fear, Suzanne," continued the young wife, "the presiding judge's very presence at this entertainment, the deference Yvon must feel for him, will necessitate the maintenance of the utmost decorum on his part; besides, my husband's absence would be sure to excite remark."

"Still, madame--"

"Oh, I shall urge Yvon to be very prudent," added Jenny, smiling, "but I see no reason why he should not avail himself of an opportunity for enjoyment that our retired life will make doubly pleasant to him."

So Suzanne, fearing the consequences of her mistress's blindness, said, resolutely:

"Madame, monsieur must not be allowed to attend this fête."

"I do not understand you, Suzanne."

"Heed what I say, madame, and for your own sake and the sake of your child prevent monsieur from attending this entertainment," exclaimed Suzanne, clasping her hands imploringly.

"What is the matter, Suzanne? You alarm me."

"You know how entirely I am devoted to you, madame?"

"Yes; but explain."

"You know perfectly well, too, that I would not run any risk of alarming you if it were not absolutely necessary. Believe me, some terrible misfortune is likely to happen if monsieur attends this fête."

Dame Roberts could say no more, for just then the door opened, and Yvon Cloarek entered his wife's room. Suzanne dared not remain any longer, so she departed, but not until after she had given her mistress one more imploring look.