“Oh, father, some misfortune has happened!”
“Your grandmamma has just arrived, Valentine,” said M. de Villefort.
“And grandpapa?” inquired the young girl, trembling with apprehension. M. de Villefort only replied by offering his arm to his daughter. It was just in time, for Valentine’s head swam, and she staggered; Madame de Villefort instantly hastened to her assistance, and aided her husband in dragging her to the carriage, saying:
“What a singular event! Who could have thought it? Ah, yes, it is indeed strange!”
And the wretched family departed, leaving a cloud of sadness hanging over the rest of the evening. At the foot of the stairs, Valentine found Barrois awaiting her.
“M. Noirtier wishes to see you tonight, he said, in an undertone.
“Tell him I will come when I leave my dear grandmamma,” she replied, feeling, with true delicacy, that the person to whom she could be of the most service just then was Madame de Saint-Méran.
Valentine found her grandmother in bed; silent caresses, heartwrung sobs, broken sighs, burning tears, were all that passed in this sad interview, while Madame de Villefort, leaning on her husband’s arm, maintained all outward forms of respect, at least towards the poor widow. She soon whispered to her husband:
“I think it would be better for me to retire, with your permission, for the sight of me appears still to afflict your mother-in-law.” Madame de Saint-Méran heard her.
“Yes, yes,” she said softly to Valentine, “let her leave; but do you stay.”