As Syrilla approached the bed, the Duchesse Douairière opened her eyes.
For a moment she looked at the vision of white beside her and then, as Syrilla raised her hand to her lips, she asked,
“You are married?”
“Yes, Belle-mère, we are married,” Syrilla replied softly.
Belle-mère,Life seemed to come back into the Duchesse’s eyes and the colour to her face.
“I have been praying all night that you will make each other happy,” she said. “Where is Aristide?”
“He will be coming to see you later, Belle-mère,” Syrilla answered. “Not all the guests have left.”
Belle-mèreShe had refrained from distressing her mother-in-law by telling her that, when she and the Duc had driven back the short distance to the Château from the Chapel in the grounds, he had stepped out first and, as the footmen wer
