It was late in the afternoon of that
perfect August day when young Rougane presented himself at the
Hotel Plougastel.
He was graciously received by Mme. de Plougastel in the salon, whose
splendours, when combined with the great air of the lady herself,
overwhelmed the lad's simple, unsophisticated soul. Madame made up
her mind at once.
M. de Kercadiou's urgent message no more than confirmed her own
fears and inclinations. She decided upon instant departure.
"Bien, madame," said the youth. "Then I have the honour to take
my leave."
But she would not let him go. First to the kitchen to refresh
himself, whilst she and mademoiselle made ready, and then a seat
for him in her carriage as far as Meudon. She could not suffer him
to return on foot as he had come.
Though in all the circumstances it was no more than his due, yet
the kindliness that in such a moment of agitation could take thought
for another was presently to be rewarded. Had she done less than
this, she would have known - if nothing worse - at least some hours
of anguish even greater than those that were already in store for her.
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