That is why you
and David are wonderful. No one knows better than I how easy it is to be
selfish."
"I have brought you an English novel," said Madame de Montomery, turning
abruptly to Mrs. Temple. "But you must not read it at night. Lindy is
not to let you have it until to-morrow."
"There," said Mrs. Temple, gayly, to me, "Madame is not happy unless she
is controlling some one, and I am a rebellious subject."
"You have not been taking care of yourself," said Madame. She glanced at
me, and bit her lips, as though guessing the emotion which my visit had
caused. "Listen," she said, "the vesper bells! You must go into the
house, and Mr. Ritchie and I must leave you."
She took Mrs. Temple by the arm and led her, unresisting, along the path.
I followed, a thousand thoughts and conjectures spinning in my brain.
They reached the bench under the little tree beside the door, and stood
talking for a moment of the routine of Mrs. Temple's life. Madame, it
seemed, had prescribed a regimen, and meant to have it followed.
Suddenly I saw Mrs. Temple take the lady's arm, and sink down upon the
bench. Then we were both beside her, bending over her, she sitting
upright and smiling at us.
"It is nothing," she said; "I am so easily tired."
Her lips were ashen, and her breath came quickly. Madame acted with that
instant promptness which I expected of her.
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