This
beautiful woman of forty, so charming, so handsome in her mauve
mourning, had already become an old woman whose movements were ever
slow and sad. Her back was bent, from constantly kneeling beside her
son's grave. Her black clothes reflected the deeper gloom of her
expression. And to those who had seen her a few months before, she was
almost unrecognizable.
Poor little Esperance regained her health very slowly. Her mind seemed
entirely clear only on one subject, the theatre. Little by little she
remembered everything connected with her art. She repeated with
Genevieve and Jean Perliez the scenes they had given at the
Competition. She worked hard on Musset's _On ne badine pas avec
l'amour_; then busied herself with preparations for her friend's
marriage. She did not know that the Duke was to be a witness.
"But," she would often object, "you must have two witnesses, and you
have only one."
"I have two," said Genevieve, "but you must guess the name of the
second."
CHAPTER XXX
The wedding, solemnized in the little church of Sauzen, at
Belle-Isle-en-Mer, was very private. Maurice had for witnesses
his uncle, Francois Darbois, and the Marquis de Montagnac, with
whom he had become great friends. Doctor Potain and the Duke de
Morlay-La-Branche were witnesses for Genevieve. The Dowager Duchess
and the Princess de Bernecourt were present. The Countess Styvens
had been ill for a month and could not leave Brussels.
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