Mme. Bourjot had just arrived with her daughter at the Mauperins'. She kissed RenÉe and sat down by Mme. Mauperin on the sofa near the fire.

"My dears," she said, turning to the two girls, who were chattering together on the other side of the room, "suppose you were to let your mothers have a little talk together. Will you take NoÉmi out in the garden a little, RenÉe? I give her over to you."

RenÉe put her arm round NoÉmi and pulled her along with her, skipping as she went. In the hall she caught up a Pyrenees hood that was lying on a chair and threw it over her head, put on some little overshoes, and ran out into the garden, rushing along like a child, and keeping her arm round her friend all the time.

"There's a secret—a secret. Do you know what the secret is?" she exclaimed, stopping suddenly short and quite out of breath.

NoÉmi looked at her with her large, sad eyes and did not answer.

"You silly girl!" said RenÉe, kissing her. "I've guessed it—I caught a few words—mamma lets everything out. It's about his lordship, my brother. There now!"

"Let's sit down—shall we? I'm so tired." And NoÉmi took her seat on the garden bench, just where her mother had sat on the night of the theatricals.

"Why, you are crying! What's the matter?" exclaimed RenÉe, sitting down by her. NoÉmi let her head fall on her friend's shoulder and burst into tears, that were quite hot as they fell on RenÉe's hand.

"What is it, tell me—answer me—speak, NoÉmi—come now, NoÉmi dear!"

"Oh, you don't know!" answered NoÉmi, in broken words, which seemed to choke her. "I won't—no, I cannot tell you—if only you knew. Oh, do help me!" and she flung her arms round RenÉe in despair. "I love you dearly—you——"

"Come, come, NoÉmi; I don't understand anything. Is it this marriage—is it my brother? You must answer me—come!"

"Ah, yes; you are his sister—I had forgotten that. Oh, dear, I wish I could die——"

"Die, but why?"

"Why? Because your brother——"

She stopped short, in horror at the thought of uttering the words she was just going to say, and then, suddenly finishing her sentence in a murmur in RenÉe's ear, she hid her face on her friend's shoulder to conceal her blushing cheeks and the shame she felt in her inmost soul.

"My brother! You say—no, it's a lie!" exclaimed RenÉe, pushing her away and springing up with a bound in front of her.

"Should I tell a lie about it?" and NoÉmi looked up sadly at RenÉe, who read the truth clearly in her eyes.

RenÉe folded her arms and gazed at her friend. She stood there a few minutes deep in thought, erect and silent, her whole attitude resolute and energetic. She felt within herself the strength of a woman, and something of the responsibility of a mother with this child.

"But how can your father—" she began, "my brother has no name but ours."

"He is to take another one."

"Ah, he is going to give our name up? And quite right that he should!"