"We
will leave you."
"No," said the Duke quickly, "Please stay. Your happiness shows me the
vision of which I dreamed. Art is the inspiration of the beautiful,
and I believe, that artists have a more delicate sense of love than
other people.
"I believe, in truth," said Maurice, "that artists, move in a much
larger world than that which is inhabited by either the bourgeoisie or
the aristocracy."
They talked for a long time, and returned to the Chateau together.
Albert was beneath the green oak, talking to the Dowager Duchess, who
was telling him how much she admired Genevieve. She had repeated her
poem so wonderfully to her alone that morning! They did not see the
trio emerge from the thicket, and Maurice was glad of it. He felt more
and more constrained. The complicity against the poor fellow's
happiness seemed to him a form of treason. He looked at his watch. It
was only five o'clock.
"That is impossible. This watch must have stopped."
The Duke went to his room. His man gave him an elegant little note,
and as his master threw it down on the table, "They await an answer."
"Very well, I will send one."
The servant withdrew. On the stair he met an English maid waiting the
answer.
"Monsieur will send an answer."
"The Countess will be displeased. These French gentlemen are more
gallant but less polite than our English lords. She is as much in love
as Love itself."
"He also is in love.
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