He came
into the room; the baroness was alone. She greeted him kindly,
and welcomed him. Rose came in soon after and did the same. But no
Josephine. Camille felt sick at heart. At last dinner was announced;
"She will surely join us at dinner," thought he. He cast his eyes
anxiously on the table; the napkins were laid for four only. The
baroness carelessly explained this to him as they sat down. "Madame
Raynal dines in her own room. I am sorry to say she is indisposed."
Camille muttered polite regrets: the rage of disappointment drove its
fangs into him, and then came the heart-sickness of hope deferred.
The next day he saw her, but could not get a word with her alone. The
baroness tortured him another way. She was full of Raynal. She loved
him. She called him her son; was never weary of descanting on his
virtues to Camille. Not a day passed that she did not pester Camille to
make a calculation as to the probable period of his return, and he was
obliged to answer her. She related to him before Josephine and Rose, how
this honest soldier had come to them like a guardian angel and saved the
whole family.
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