Margot wept and stormed and declared she would never tell Robert, and demanded to know why people would not leave her alone. Hadn’t she suffered enough?
“Look, Margot,” I said, ‘if you tell him, perhaps he’ll understand and that will be an end of the matter. Just imagine how happy you would be without the burden of this secret. Think of all the people who might decide to blackmail you. You haven’t heard the end of Bessell and Mimi yet. “
“And I trusted them,” she said.
“It shows you can trust no one,” Yvette pointed out.
“Minelle is right. Robert is good and kind and he loves you.”
“Not enough for that perhaps,” said Margot. “
“I believe he does,” I said,
“How can you know that?”
“I know that you are very happy together and he won’t want that changed.”
“But it will be changed. He thinks me so wonderful… so unlike other girls…”
She stormed and raged and shut herself in her room and then came to me and demanded that I talk to her. We discussed it all again, going over and over the same points. I stuck to my opinion; she wavered from one to the other.
I reminded her that Bnrilie would be at the patisserie the next day.
“Let her be!” she cried.
At supper she was quite gay with Robert as though there was nothing at all on her mind. Though perhaps, I thought afterwards, she was a little too gay.
I spent a sleepless night wondering what would happen the next day, but in the early morning Margot came to me. She was radiant.
She had done it. She had taken our advice. She had told Robert that Chariot was her son.
She threw herself into my arms.
“And he still loves me,” she said.
I was so relieved I could not speak.
“He was a little taken aback,” she explained.
“But when he had got used to it he said that he was glad I had brought Chariot here. Then he said I would be a good mother to our children when they came. You see, Minelle, I have solved our problem.”
“Ours?” I said.
“You are in this as much as I am.”
“My part can hardly be compared with yours. But never mind that now. I am so pleased and happy. How lucky you are to have Robert. I hope you appreciate that.” ‘
I could not but relish my meeting with Emilie. She was waiting at the patisserie and she brightened with anticipation when she saw me.
“Have you brought the money?” she demanded.
“Hand it to me now.”
“You go too fast,” I retorted. I have not brought the money. You may go straight to the chateau and ask for Monsieur de Grasseville. You can tell him what you know of his wife. You will get short shrift from him for information that he already knows. “
“I don’t believe it.”
“Nevertheless it is true.”
“It’s not the story I heard.”
“Do you think you are in a position to hear what takes place between a wife and her husband?’ She looked deflated.
“You’re lying, of course.”
“It is not a habit of mine to do so.”
“Maybe not, but I reckon you sidestep now and then. You managed very well when you were with us. Madame Ie Brun … a husband who was dead drowned, wasn’t it. A fine story. You could lie then and you’re lying now.”
“There is one way of proving it. Go to the chateau and ask for Monsieur de Grasseville. I am sure he would grant you an interview.
But you might find someone waiting for you whom you do not expect. Now get out of here while you can safely do so. “
“Do not imagine, Mademoiselle, that I shall let this pass. I shall discover the truth and when I have done so I shall know how to act.”
“And if you are not careful, so shall we. There is nothing more despicable than a blackmailer. Goodbye. Take warning and never show your face here again.”
Emilie, looking sickly pale, rose and giving me a venomous look said:
“One day it will be different. One day we shall iave our revenge on such as you. It has been too easy for ou. Those days are over. The time is coming when there’ll ie change. Ill see the likes of you hanging on the lanterns ‘before long.”
She walked away, her head high. Her words had sent a shiver of dismay down my spine. My triumph in victory was gone. So absorbed was I that I forgot to see if the man in the dark wig had followed me.
III
The atmosphere of the household had changed as I suppose was inevitable after Margot’s revelation. She tried to be as gay as before, but she was apprehensive and Robert was subdued.
Clearly this had been a shock for him.
Margot was excessively affectionate towards him and he appreciated that, but I caught him looking at Chariot with a kind of wondering amazement, as though he could not really believe the story of his birth.
“He’ll get used to it,” said Yvette, and with so many unscrupulous people aware of it, he would certainly have discovered in time. It is best that he knows through her. He is a good young man and she is fortunate to have such a husband. Different from her mother. “
That brought us back to Ursule and as that was a subject which I found irresistible, I encouraged more disclosures.
“She stayed in her room a great deal, I know,” I said.
“What did people think? I suppose there was a good deal of entertaining at the chateau ” There was, and at first she would put in an appearance. They made a show of being a loving couple at first, but after a while she began to plead illness. Of course she did feel weak after Marguerite’s birth and she never really regained her health and strength. “
“Invalidism became a sort of cult, didn’t it?”
“It did. She was childish sometimes. When there was an engagement which she wanted to avoid she would say: ” Oh, I have such a headache.”
And Nou-Nou would reply: “I’ll get you some spirit of bahn or my marjoram juice.” And Ursule would shake her head and say: “No, Nouny. I don’t want . any of your herb drinks, I really want to be with you and j then my headache will go. ” Of course Nou-Nou loved that. She liked to think that her little girl could be made well simply by being with her. Then I began to realize that Ursule’s‘ illnesses were mostly of the mind. They were excuses. We both hated him so much that we always rushed to her rescue’ and we would tell him that she was not well enough to be with him.”
“It’s a dangerous practice,” I said, ‘to feign illness. It’s like rough justice. You tend to be ill in order to escape something and before you realize it you are ill. “
“It seems so. As the years passed she became an invalid although there was rarely anything specifically wrong wif her. He despised that in her. He thought her a malinge which she was in a way. Yet it seemed to me that her illnesses were real, only they weren’t what she said they were. So she became very much the invalid wife. She did not seem to want to go far from her room. She took shelter from him on her couch and chaise-longue.”
“Can you blame him for looking elsewhere?”
“I do blame him,” said Yvette fiercely.
“I tell you I know more than you do.”
We were silent for a while and then she said: “One of these days .. ” I waited but she added: “Never mind.”
“But what were you going to say? What is going to happen one of these days?”
“I have her letters,” she said.
“I’ve kept every one of them. She wrote to me regularly once a week all those letters over six years. Writing to me was an outlet for her feelings. She just set her thoughts down on paper. It was like talking to her. Sometimes I would have several letters at a time. She used to number them so that I read them in the right order. I knew exactly what she was thinking … what she was doing. It was like being there … only closer really, because she was more frank on paper than she ever was when we were together.” Her next words startled me.