The Abbe de Grancey sat down by the
Baroness in such a position as to watch Rosalie, whose face, usually
pale, wore a feverish flush.
"What can have happened to Monsieur de Savarus?" said Madame de
Chavoncourt.
At this moment a servant in livery brought in a letter for the Abbe de
Grancey on a silver tray.
"Pray read it," said the Baroness.
The Vicar-General read the letter; he saw Rosalie suddenly turn as
white as her kerchief.
"She recognizes the writing," said he to himself, after glancing at
the girl over his spectacles. He folded up the letter, and calmly put
it in his pocket without a word. In three minutes he had met three
looks from Rosalie which were enough to make him guess everything.
"She is in love with Albert Savarus!" thought the Vicar-General.
He rose and took leave. He was going towards the door when, in the
next room, he was overtaken by Rosalie, who said:
"Monsieur de Grancey, it was from Albert!"
"How do you know that it was his writing, to recognize it from so
far?"
The girl's reply, caught as she was in the toils of her impatience and
rage, seemed to the Abbe sublime.
"I love him!--What is the matter?" she said after a pause.
"He gives up the election."
Rosalie put her finger to her lip.
"I ask you to be as secret as if it were a confession," said she
before returning to the drawing-room. "If there is an end of the
election, there is an end of the marriage with Sidonie.
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