"Well, it sounds as if ..."
"As if what? Are you jealous, Drusilla?"
"Of course not."
"You must be. Everyone will be jealous of me."
"Well, you hardly know him."
She looked very wise. "In these matters it is not how long you know people. It is how deeply you know them. Don't tell anyone yet ... especially Janine."
"Why do you have to keep it secret?" I asked.
"It's only for a while. I shouldn't have told you, but you know how I seem to tell you things."
She was certainly ecstatically happy. She was more pleasant to me. She did not come on the wagon in the afternoons and I guessed she was keeping some secret rendezvous with the Comte. I wondered where. Perhaps he had his carriage, which would wait for her in a secret place and carry her off ... to where? I felt a twinge of uneasiness.
Janine said, "What's happened to Lavinia? She's changed."
"Has she?" I asked innocently.
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed."
"Well, you never know what mood she will be in."
"Something has happened," said the all-seeing Janine. There were suspicions in her eyes. Her overweening curiosity had been aroused; and when Lavinia's mood changed once more she was the first to notice.
Lavinia looked a little pale. She was absentminded; sometimes when one spoke to her she did not seem to hear.
I thought something must have gone wrong with the romance and was making up my mind to ask her when she told me she wanted to speak to me ... urgently.
"Come into the garden," she said. "It's easier there."
As it was February, the weather was cold. We had discovered that although the summers here were hotter than in England, the winters could be far colder. In season the gardens were quite glorious, with bougainvillaea and oleander and many coloured plants. But this was, after all, winter. In the gardens during the month of February, we were less likely to be interrupted than anywhere else.
I met her there. "Well, what is it?" I asked.
"It's the Comte," she replied.
"I can see it is not good news. Has he called off the engagement?"
"No. I just haven't seen him."
"He's probably been called away on important business ... that large estate and all that."
"He would have let me know. He was supposed to meet me."
"Where?"
"At that little hut place. You know it ... about half a mile away in the forest."
"That broken-down old shed! That was where your meetings took place, then?"
"Nobody goes there."
I was becoming uneasy. It was getting to look like the Jos affair.
"So he didn't arrive ..."
She shook her head. I could see she was trying to hold back the tears.
"How long is it since you've seen him?"
"It's three weeks."
"That is a long time. I have no doubt someone else will turn up. If not you will have to give your attention to Monsieur Dubois."
"You don't understand." She looked at me steadily and burst out, "I think I am going to have a baby."
I stared at her in horror. My first thoughts were of Lady Harriet. Her shock ... her reproaches. Lavinia had been sent away to escape that sort of thing; and I had been sent with her to protect her.
I said, "You must marry him ... at once."
"I don't know where he is."
"We must get a message to that chateau of his."
"It is three weeks since I saw him. Oh, Drusilla, what am I going to do?"
I was immediately sorry for her. All her arrogance had been wiped away. There was only fear; and I was flattered that she had turned to me for help. She looked at me wheedlingly as though I could certainly find the solution. I was pleased that she held me in such esteem.
"We must find him," I said.
"He loved me so much, Drusilla. More than anyone he has ever known. He said I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen."
"I think they all say that to everyone." I thought of a sharp retort, but I spoke gently, for there is something more than ordinarily pathetic about the arrogant when they are brought low. I was looking at a very frightened girl, as well she might be.
"Drusilla," she begged, "you will help me?"
I did not see how, but it was gratifying that the normally overbearing Lavinia should turn to me with that innocent belief in my ability to solve her problem.
"We have to think about it," I said. "We have to give our minds to it."
She clung to me desperately. "I don't know what to do. I've got to do something. You will help, won't you? You're so clever."
I said, "I'll do all I can."
"Oh thank you, Drusilla, thank you."
My mind was occupied with her problem. I thought: The first thing to do is to find the Comte.
I went into the town on the wagon with the girls that afternoon. Lavinia stayed behind, pleading a headache. Perhaps it was a real one on this occasion.
I chose my cake and when Charles came out with the coffee I seized the opportunity to talk to him.
"Do you know Borgasson?" I asked.
"Oh yes, Mademoiselle. It's some fifty miles from here. Did you think of taking an excursion? It is hardly worth a visit."
"There is an old chateau there ... owned by the Comte de Borgasson ..."
"Oh no, Mademoiselle, there is no chateau ... just a few little farms and some small houses. Just a village ... No, not worth a visit."
"Do you mean to say that there is no Chateau de Borgasson?"
"Certainly there is not. I know the place well. My uncle lives there."
Then I began to see clearly what had happened. Lavinia had been duped by the bogus Comte; and the significance of her position was borne home to me.
I had to tell her. I said, "Charles, the garcon, says there is no chateau in Borgasson; there is no Comte. He knows because his uncle lives there. You have been deceived."
"I don't believe it."
"He would know. And where is the Comte? You'd better face up to the truth, Lavinia. He was pretending all the time. He merely wanted you to do ... what you did. And that is why he talked of marriage and all that."
"He couldn't have ... not the Comte."
"Lavinia, the sooner you face the facts the better ... for the easier it will be for us. We have to look at this as it really is and not as you would like it to be."
"Oh, Drusilla, I am so frightened."
I thought: I'm not surprised at that. She was relying on me. I would have to do something. But what?
People began to notice the change in her. She was looking pale and there were shadows under her eyes.
Miss Ellmore said to me, "I think Lavinia is unwell. Perhaps I should have a word with Madame. There is a good doctor here ... a friend of Madame ..."
When I told Lavinia this she fell into a panic.
"Don't worry," I said. "Pull yourself together. It would be fatal if she sent for the doctor. They would all know."
She tried, but she was still pale and wan.
I told Miss Ellmore that she was considerably better.
"Girls do go through these phases," said Miss Ellmore; and I felt we had got over that fence.
It was inevitable that Janine should notice.
"What's wrong with our forlorn maiden?" she asked. "Has the noble Comte deserted her? Are we witnessing the symptoms of a broken heart?"
It suddenly occurred to me that the worldly Janine might be able to help us and I asked Lavinia if I might tell her.
"She hates me," said Lavinia. "She would never help me."
"She would. She hated you because you were more attractive than she was. Now that you are in deep trouble she wouldn't hate you so much. People are like that. They don't hate people half as much when they fail. And she might be able to help."