CHAPTER III.
MONSIEUR ROGER.
Monsieur and Madame Dalize went back into the chateau, and soonreappeared in walking-costumes. Miette, who was playing in the shadowsof the great chestnut-trees, looked up in surprise.
"You are going out walking without me?" said she.
"No, my child," answered Madame Dalize, "we are not going out to take awalk at all; but we have to go and make our excuses to Monsieur andMadame Sylvestre at the farm, because we shall not be able to dine withthem this evening, as we had agreed."
"Take me with you," said Miette.
"No; the road is too long and too fatiguing for your little legs."
"Are you going on foot?"
"Certainly," said Monsieur Dalize. "We must keep the horses fresh tosend them down to meet Roger at the station."
Miss Miette could not help respecting so good a reason, and she resistedno longer.
When left alone, she began seriously to wonder what she should do duringthe absence of her parents, which would certainly last over an hour. Anidea came to her. She went into the chateau, passed into thedrawing-room, took down a large album of photographs which was on thetable, and carried it into her room. She did not have to search long. Onthe first page was the portrait of her mother, on the next was that ofherself, Miette, and that of her brother Albert. The third pagecontained two portraits of men. One of these portraits was that of herfather, the other was evidently the one that she was in search of, forshe looked at it attentively.
"It was a long time ago," she said to herself, "that this photograph wasmade,--ten years ago; but I am sure that I shall recognize MonsieurRoger all the same when he returns."
At this very moment Miette heard the sound of a carriage some distanceoff. Surely the carriage was driving through the park. She listenedwith all her ears. Soon the gravelled road leading up to the chateau wascrunched under the wheels of the carriage. Miette then saw anold-fashioned cab, which evidently had been hired at some hotel in Sens.The cab stopped before the threshold. Miette could not see so far fromher window. She left the album upon her table, and ran down-stairs, fullof curiosity. In the vestibule she met old Peter, and asked him who itwas.
"It is a gentleman whom I don't know," said Peter.
"Where is he?"
"I asked him into the parlor."
Miette approached lightly on tiptoe to the door of the parlor, which wasopen, wishing to see without being seen. She expected she would find inthis visitor some country neighbor. The gentleman was standing, lookingout of the glass windows.
From where she was Miette could see his profile. She made a gesture, asif to say, "I don't know him;" and she was going to withdraw as slowlyas possible, with her curiosity unsatisfied, when the gentleman turnedaround. Miette now saw him directly in front of her in the full light.His beard and his hair were gray, his forehead was lightly wrinkled onthe temples, a sombre expression saddened his features. His dress waselegant. He walked a few steps in the parlor, coming towards the door,but he had not yet seen Miette. In her great surprise she had quicklydrawn herself back, but she still followed the visitor with her eyes. Atfirst she had doubted now she was sure; she could not be mistaken. Whenthe gentleman had reached the middle of the parlor, Miette could containherself no longer. She showed herself in the doorway and advancedtowards the visitor. He stopped, surprised at this pretty apparition.Miette came up to him and looked him in the eyes. Then, entirelyconvinced, holding out her arms towards the visitor, she said, softly,--
"Monsieur Roger!"
The gentleman in his turn looked with surprise at the pretty little girlwho had saluted him by name. He cast a glance towards the door, and,seeing that she was alone, more surprised than ever, he looked at herlong and silently.
Miette, abashed by this scrutiny, drew back a little, and said, withhesitation,--
"Tell me: you are surely Monsieur Roger?"
"Yes, I am indeed Monsieur Roger," said the visitor, at last, in a voicefull of emotion. And, with a kindly smile, he added, "How did you cometo recognize me, Miss Miette?"
Hearing her own name pronounced in this unexpected manner, Miss Miettewas struck dumb with astonishment. At the end of a minute, shestammered,--
"Why, sir, you know me, then, also?"
"Yes, my child; I have known and loved you for a long time."
And Monsieur Roger caught Miette up in his arms and kissed hertenderly.
"Yes," he continued, "I know you, my dear child. Your father has oftenspoken of you in his letters; and has he not sent me also several ofyour photographs when I asked for them?"
"Why, that is funny!" cried Miette.
But she suddenly felt that the word was not dignified enough.
"That is very strange," she said: "for I, too, recognized you from yourphotograph; and it was only five minutes ago, at the very moment whenyou arrived, that I was looking at it, up-stairs in my room. Shall I goup and find the album?"
Monsieur Roger held her back.
"No, my child," said he, "remain here by me, and tell me something aboutyour father and your mother."
Miette looked up at the clock.
"Papa and mamma may return at any moment. They will talk to youthemselves a great deal better than I can. All that I can tell you isthat they are going to be very, very glad; but they did not expect youuntil the evening. How does it happen that you are here already?"
"Because I took the first train,--the 6.30."
"But your telegram?"
"Yes, I sent a despatch last night on arriving at Paris, but I did nothave the patience to wait for an answer. I departed, hoping they wouldreceive me anyway with pleasure; and I already see that I was notmistaken."
"No, Monsieur Roger," answered Miette, "you were not mistaken. You aregoing to be very happy here, very happy. There, now! I see papa andmamma returning."
The door of the vestibule had just been opened.
They could see Peter exchanging some words with his master and mistress.Then hurried steps were heard, and in a moment Monsieur Dalize was inthe arms of his friend Roger. Miss Miette, who had taken her mamma bythe arm, obliged her to bend down, and said in her ear,--
"I love him already, our friend Roger."
In Search of a Son Page 3