"I don't know, sir," she answered. "The count came an hour ago, but he
told me to send in his name to Mademoiselle Kondjé's mother, who was
expecting him, I think, and who ordered me to show him into the small
drawing-room, where she went to see him. When he left, he said nothing
to me."
"Did he say nothing to Pierre?" I added.
"Pierre was not in, sir," replied Fanny. "The count only spoke to Madame
Murrah."
"Ah, very well!" I said, carelessly.
These inquiries had led me to a curious discovery. What was the meaning
of this private interview between Kondjé's mother and Daniel? Determined
to get to the bottom of this mystery, I went up without any more ado to
Madame Murrah's private sitting-room. She did not appear surprised, from
which I concluded that she knew I was in the house, and was prepared to
see me. For my part I pretended to have come to settle some details
connected with the house and the stables, for I was obliged to assist
her in the management of all her domestic affairs. She listened to what
I said with that deferential sort of smile which she invariably assumes
with me. When she was quite absorbed in the calculations which I had
submitted, I said to her all at once: "By the way, what did Count Kiusko come here for so early in the day?"
I thought I noticed her face redden, but this was only a transient
impression.
"The count?" she answered, in a most profoundly surprised tone. "I did
not see him! Has he been here?"
"Why, Fanny showed him in here," I replied, "and you have spoken to
him."
"Ah, yes! this morning," she exclaimed sharply, and with emphasis on
these words. "Goodness me, what a poor head I have! I thought you said
yesterday evening. I understand French so badly, you know. Yes, yes,
he has been here. The poor young man is off his head. This is the second
time he has been here to beg me for Kondjé-Gul's hand. He is quite
crazy! crazy!"
"Oh, then he has been before! But why did not you inform me?"
"It is true: I had forgotten to do so!" she replied.
I deemed it useless to appear to press her any more on the matter. Had
Madame Murrah tried to keep me in ignorance of these visits of Count
Kiusko's? Or was this merely a proof, or the contrary, of the slight
importance which she attached to them? In any case, for me to let her
see my distrust in her would only put her on her guard. So I broke off
the subject, and resumed my household instructions, as if I had remarked
nothing more important in this matutinal incident than the stupid
pertinacity of a discomfited lover. A quarter of an hour afterwards I
took my leave of her in quite a jaunty way.