She kissed Myriam once more and went away singing.
— On her return, Myriam was rid of her last misgivings. Mrs. Cornavin and the twins were on the door steps when Kozincko's smart car drew alongside.
The old English lady looked the picture of dumb surprise. She rarely saw Kozincko, and he never was very friendly in his tone… Myriam's presence in that car by his side was too unexpected for words.
The twins, Katy and Helen, two red-haired, freckled, girls who weren't pretty but had a bitter-sweet charm somehow, were nudging each other, and waited for their mater's wrath. They wondered what Myriam had done to have the owner coming here personally.
Kozincko was courteous yet brief:
«Dear madam, I'm here to rob you of your niece.»
My daughter is leaving for Paris and needs a lady's maid, and a companion as well. Myriam is exactly what we need. I came to ask you to let her come with us to night.
To Mrs. Cornavin it was a bolt out of the blue, she stood dumbfound.
Myriam in Paris, with Ghislaine… That was too good for that little minx! And this, all of a sudden, without the slightest hint!
Mrs. Cornavin in spite of her sanctimonious look knew a thing or two about men, she guessed Kozincko's plans. Though she kept her mouth shut she knew what went on at the manor house on certain nights.
After recovering from her surprise, she almost managed to muster a smile and asked the girls to leave them alone.
The look she gave Myriam was more than hostile; was she going to say «No!»…?
Did she guess what had happened, thought the girl.
Her cousins' rattle of questions ended these reflections and Myriam soon made them grey with envy with the account of her luck. Mrs. Cornavin was positively honey mouthed…
— «You know, I hope, this girl isn't my daughter, I took her as a baby and she isn't seventeen yet. You understand I stand responsible for her…
«Do you think madam I couldn't protect her as efficiently?
«This isn't what I meant, smirked the old hag, but Myriam is a delightful little thing, appetizing but pure as a lamb… you see what I mean by this, do you not… It's so easy to stray away…»
Kozincko grew a trifle pale.
«Do mean to say I entertain objectionable views on the child?
«Good Heavens! cried Mrs. Cornavin.. and., even if you did… You're a gentleman…»
He understood she had guessed everything, and was willing to help him. He eyed her silently and reflected she might be of use to him. He gave her a cold smile and agreed:
«I see… We'll easily come to terms together.»
Mrs. Cornavin grinned broadly.
«I knew you were a man of the world. I think I might… lend you a hand. This child is meat for a king, but she might be more… reluctant than you expect. In this case I'd be glad to help you.»
Kozincko knew which side his bread was buttered. He offered:
«While we are away, you might come and stay at the manor house with your daughters, I'm so seldom there myself…
«I know, said Mrs. Cornavin, I might make myself useful in some little ways… I have still got some trustworthy friends who… besides I know the world and…
«It's a pity really you didn't tell me before of all this. I'm delighted. So it's all settled?
«Yes, and believe me, be firm with this child, she needs a master.
«I think I'll know how to… break her in…»
And they parted with a smile.
Myriam was waiting for him outside. She read in his eyes it was all right.
«We'll wait for you to night at the manor.»
Myriam could hardly believe her ears, she almost hugged him.
She didn't see the look in her aunt eyes as the car was driving away, neither did she hear her woods:
«If I know how to manage him, he will have a lot to pay for that little fool's maidenhead.
— Her aunt was surprisingly kind to Myriam when she left. She gave her little presents, pin money; but, at the last moment, she had a small chat with her…
«I suppose you understand why Mr. Nicolas is so anxious to take you to Paris…?
«No, my aunt, he told me Ghislaine…
«You silly fool! Don't you see he's got something else on his mind. You're pretty, you're young, with a fine figure. Don't you understand…»
«I…
Myriam protested.
«No, I don't see what you mean!
«Listen, you're no longer a baby… I know there ear many things you don't understand yet, but you've been reading enough books to guess what a man expects from a girl he doesn't love.»
Myriam was silent, her aunt went on:
«And even if you're too silly to know that, it doesn't matter much, the only thing is the result. Mr. Nicolas wants you… You mustn't disappoint him… He's a rich man… He may do a lot for you and… for us. When you'll be in Paris, he'll try to caress you, to kiss you. Let him for. Heaven's sake!.. But stop him in time. He mustn't go too far… at least not yet…
«But my aunt, cried our innocent Myriam, who didn't understand a word of this motherly piece of advice… what must I do?
«This is what you're to do, pursued Mrs. Cornavin, and she gave a vivid concise, if somewhat coarse description of the process.»
Myriam's cheeks were hot with shame. She had never thought of all this; she had never imagined any such thing, and she thought what Kozincko had done the limit!
Her aunt's accurateness was the ruin of her dreams. She understood now she had had a hairbreadth escape. Now she'd never be able to set eyes on Ghislaine's father without thinking of her aunt's realistic description.
«You mustn't let him shove in. Let him do anything he likes, but not that!
«But if he forces me?
«If you're not a fool, he'll never be able to force you, just dodge him! When he will be nuts on you, I'll tell you then what you must do… You understand then; anything but your maidenhead.
«Yes, my aunt.
«You'll tell me everything, beside, I'll see for myself as we're going to move into the manor.»
The news startled Myriam.
«You'll live in the Chateau Vert?
«Yes, do you wonder?
«No, said Myriam, no… I no longer wonder at anything!»
Yet she wasn't far from thinking her aunt had combined and planned the whole thing, and her joy was mixed with some bitterness and apprehension.
— Yet Katy and Helen envied her, unaware they would soon play their part in the intrigues so unexpectedly schemed up…
CHAPTER V
«Myriam? Have you ever been in love?»
This momentous question was asked when Ghislaine was having her hair brushed by her friend at night, as usual.
Myriam smiled:
«No Mademoiselle, never…
