The adulteress

Whichever way I looked I was faced by a mighty dilemma. And there was no one to advise me.

Then one day when I sat in my bedroom there was a knock at my door and one of the maids entered to tell me that there was a visitor below to see me.

When I saw him standing in the hall my heart leaped with an excitement which I had not known for a long time.

He had changed a little. He was obviously older. He wore a neat wig, very white and wavy, which made his bright eyes seem darker than I remembered them. He held his feathered hat in his hand; his sword showed beneath his loose coat which had a more elegant cut than those I was accustomed to seeing.

I came down the stairs and he hurried toward me. He took both my hands in his and kissed first one then the other.

I had forgotten how he could excite me. I felt young again ... young and foolish and reckless.

"You sent for me," he said, "at last."

"Gerard," I said quietly. "And you came."

"Certainly I came. Did you think I would not? And we have a daughter."

"Gerard," I said, "we must talk ... together ... undisturbed. First I must explain... . Have you anyone with you?"

"Two servants."

"Where are they?"

"I left them with the horses."

"I will send word for them to be looked after, but first come in here." I took him into the winter parlor and shut the door.

"There was a child," he said. "Why didn't you tell me ... ?"

"How could I? My husband thought she was his. She was a great comfort to him."

"Where is she?"

"She is here."

"I long to see her."

"You shall. I want you to help me."

"What danger is she in?"

"I have to explain everything. Please, Gerard, listen to me."

I told him as briefly as I could what had happened. Of how Jean-Louis had suffered, of how the doctor and I had become lovers; I told of the wickedness of Dickon, of his ambitions through our daughter.

That was the most difficult part for him to understand. I could see that he did not understand why Dickon was such a villain in my eyes. But he listened intently and he would help me.

I said: "I am going to tell Lottie that you are her father. But first I want her to meet you ... to like you ... as I know she will. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly," he said.

"Then I want you to take her back with you. You can say you wish her to see your country ... to show her your home ... and then I want you to see that she is fascinated by all she sees ... so that she does not believe the height of bliss is to settle down and marry Dickon. I want her to see something of the world ... meet other people. ... I want to get her away for a while."

"It shall be as you say."

"Now," I said, "I am going to have a room made ready for you. I shall tell her that we have a visitor from France. I want you to get to know each other. How does that seem?"

He was looking at me intently as I remember he used to look at me all those years ago.

"It seems to me perfect," he said.

Of course he fascinated Lottie. His elegance, his charm, all that had fascinated me and swept me off my feet when I was young. It was all there. It hadn't changed very much except perhaps to become more subtle, more mature.

I felt as I never thought I would again and before a week was out I found that I could explain to Lottie.

When I told her she stared at me incredulously. Her father! This exciting, fascinating man. He had talked to her of his chateau, of his life at the French court, of Paris, of the French countryside ... and so vividly, as he had one purpose and that to make her wish to see them, and he succeeded admirably.

I saw the look of wonder on her face which she immediately suppressed because she felt it was disloyal to Jean-Louis. She kept looking at me as though she were seeing me in a new light.

Life had been revealed to her. It was not good and bad, neatly divided into black and white. People were not always what they seemed.

She was very thoughtful. But I could see that she was excited at the thought of having such a father.

He would take her back with him for a visit. How did she feel about that?

It was just what she needed. Her horizon would be widened; she would see another world apart from the small one in which she had lived. She would meet people—perhaps as fascinating as Dickon had been. She was already very conscious of the worldly charm of her father.

She was delighted.

"But to leave you, mama," she said. "Now that you are so sad."

I said: "You will come back to me."

"Yes," she said, "I have to come back ... and marry Dickon."

It was almost as though she remembered him for the first time in several days.

I watched them go.

"I will write to you, dear mama," said Lottie. "I will tell you all the exciting things that are happening to me."

"I will write to you," said Gerard, "and tell you how much we miss you."