Valentine by George Sand Page B

await a second signal before going down, and soon a great uproar of dogs barking savagely at one another awoke all the echoes of the courtyard. Bénédict had set his dog on those belonging to the château, in order to make known his arrival in the noisiest possible way.
    Valentine went down at once. Her instinct led her to divine that Bénédict would preferably pay his respects to the marchioness, as being more approachable. So she joined her grandmother, who was accustomed to take her siesta on the couch in the salon, and, having gently awakened her, made some excuse for sitting with her.
    A few minutes later, a servant entered and announced that Monsieur Lhéry’s nephew desired to present his respects and his game to the marchioness.
    â€œI can do very well without his respects,” the marchioness replied, “ but his game is welcome. Show him in.”

    * Shepherdess Solange, list ye, The lark in the fields is calling.

X
    At sight of that young man, whose accomplice she knew herself to be, and whom she was about to assist to deliver a secret message to her under her grandmother’s eyes, Valentine had a pang of remorse. She felt that she was blushing, and the crimson of her cheeks was reflected on Bénédict’s.
    â€œAh ! so it’s you, my boy,” said the marchioness, displaying her short, plump leg on the sofa, with the charming manners of the time of Louis XV. “Glad to see you. How is everybody at the farm ? Good Mère Lhéry, and the pretty little cousin, and everybody?”
    Then, paying no heed to the reply, she plunged her hand in the game-bag which Gabriel removed from his shoulder.
    â€œAh ! this is really a fine lot of game ! Did you kill it ? They say that you let Trigaud poach a little on our land. But this is enough to absolve you.”
    â€œThis,” said Bénédict, taking from his bosom a little live titmouse, “I caught in the net, by chance. As it’s a rare species, I thought that mademoiselle, being interested in natural history, might like to add it to her collection.”
    As he passed the little creature to Valentine, he pretended to have much difficulty in putting it into her fingers without allowing it to escape. He took advantage of that moment to hand her the letter. Valentine went to a window, as if to examine the bird more closely, and hid the paper in her pocket.
    â€œYou must be very warm, my dear fellow ?” said the marchioness. “Pray go to the servants’ quarters and get something to drink.”
    Valentine saw the disdainful smile that curled Bénédict’s lip.
    â€œPerhaps monsieur would prefer a glass of pomegranate water ?” she said hastily.
    And she took up the carafe, which was on a small table behind her grandmother and herself, and poured out the water for her guest. Bénédict thanked her with a glance, and, passing behind the sofa, took it from her overjoyed to be allowed to touch the glass which Valentine’s white hand offered him.
    The marchioness had a slight attack of coughing, during which he said rapidly to Valentine :
    â€œWhat answer shall I carry back to the request contained in this letter ?”
    â€œWhatever it may be, the answer is
yes,”
said Valentine, terrified by such audacity.
    Bénédict glanced gravely about that sumptuous and spacious salon, at the limpid mirrors, the polished floor, the thousand and one refinements of luxury, even the uses of which were still unknown at the farm. This was not the first time that he had entered the homes of the wealthy, and his heart was very far from being filled with envious longing for all those baubles of fortune, as Athénaïs’s would have been. But he could not help noticing one thing which had never before made such a profound impression on him ; that is, that society had placed tremendous obstacles between Mademoiselle de Raimbault and himself.
    â€œLuckily,” he thought, “I