Gustave remained for a long time buried in thought; what Cherami had said to him on the subject of Adolphine had moved him profoundly. With a heart so easily touched, a heart made to love, Gustave had as yet met with nothing but falsehood and perfidy. He remembered now a thousand occasions on which Fanny's sister had shown the deepest interest in him; she was always kind to him, always had some consolation to give him; he recalled, too, her habitual melancholy, her sad smile, and the sighs which she tried in vain to restrain when he held her hand. Having passed in review all these memories, the young man hastily left the house, saying to himself:

"I will go to see her; I will read in her eyes whether she really loves me."

Adolphine was in her room, working at her embroidery frame; Madeleine was hovering about her mistress, pretending to arrange the furniture. Madeleine was an excellent girl, who had divined that her mistress was in love. She had noticed that she never smiled or seemed happy, except when Gustave came to see her; but she had heard it said that he was going to marry her mistress's sister, whereupon Adolphine had become more melancholy than ever. Later, it was said that the marriage was broken off, and yet Adolphine never smiled; to be sure, the young man who always brought a smile to her lips had ceased to come.

Madeleine would have been glad to have her young mistress confide her secret to her; but she confined in the lowest depths of her heart a passion which she believed to be well hidden. However, the maid succeeded occasionally, by dint of beating about the bush, in extorting a few words, which she made the most of.

"Mamzelle," said Madeleine, "isn't it very strange that madame your sister never comes to see you now?"

"My father was angry with her, you know."

"That didn't prevent her coming here when she wanted to find out who had had the audacity to fight with her count. She was sure it was Monsieur Gustave. But you told her she was mistaken, and you were right. Why should Monsieur Gustave fight for her, I should like to know, when she keeps making sport of him? A man doesn't fight, except for a person he loves; and I am very sure, for my part, that Monsieur Gustave never gives your sister a thought now."

"You think not, Madeleine?"

This question was asked with an eagerness which would have betrayed Adolphine's secret, if her maid had not already guessed it.

"But Fanny isn't married!" murmured Adolphine sadly, a moment later.

"Well, mamzelle, for my part, I am glad of it! She'd have kicked up altogether too much dust if she had been a countess."

"But when will Gustave come back?"

"Why, you don't suppose that he will still want to marry your sister, do you?"

"Why not? He loved her so much!"

"Well, I'll bet that he won't. Think of it, mamzelle, after two such affronts as that! for you told me it was the second time she had broken with him. Why, he would have to be a downright fool for that. Is Monsieur Gustave a fool?"

"Oh, no! far from it."

"Well, then——"

At that moment the bell rang; Adolphine started, without knowing why, and Madeleine cried:

"There, suppose it was him? Speak of the devil——"

It was, in fact, Gustave, and Madeleine's face was wreathed in smiles when she announced him to her mistress. The young man entered with more or less embarrassment, caused by Cherami's disclosures. But Adolphine held out her hand, and he pressed it in his with such force that the girl was deeply moved; for Gustave had never manifested so much pleasure at sight of her.

In a moment she spied the scar, and exclaimed in dismay:

"Mon Dieu! Monsieur Gustave, you are wounded!"

"No; it is all healed."

"But you surely have been terribly wounded. What was it?"

"A sword-cut."

"You have had a duel?"

"Yes, with an Irish officer. I was in London then."

"And why? For—whom did you fight?"

"Oh! it was for a mere trifle. A quarrel following a hearty breakfast."

"Mon Dieu! if you had been killed!"

"I shouldn't be with you now."

"Was the wound serious?"

"Yes, it kept me housed six weeks. But for that, I should have been at home more than a month ago."

"More than a month! Ah! then you were anxious to return at once as soon as you learned—what had happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why, the thing that caused—oh! surely you know?"

"No, I do not know. I intended to return, because I had finished my uncle's business, because I was horribly bored in England, and because I had no reason for staying away from Paris any longer."

"Was that all?"

"To be sure. What other reason are you thinking of, pray?"

"Don't you know that the Comte de la BÉriniÈre is dead?"

"Certainly I know it."

"And that he died before he had married my sister?"

"I know all that."

"You do? and that wasn't what brought you home?"

"Oh! mademoiselle, is it possible that you think that I can love your sister still! Oh, no! you cannot think it, for you would despise me if you had such an opinion of me as that."

"What! can it be possible? Gustave, Monsieur Gustave, you no longer love my sister? Oh! what joy! Mon Dieu! I don't know what I am saying. I mean that I think you will be happier now; and you have been sad and unhappy so long!"

"Yes, for a long, long time. And don't you think that I deserve to be rewarded for my constancy by finding at last a heart that does understand me, a woman who has—a little love for me?"

"A little? Oh! you will find one who loves you dearly! At least, I should think so, because you deserve it so well!"

"Dear Adolphine! Oh! I beg your pardon, mademoiselle, for presuming still to address you in that way."

"Why, it doesn't offend me—far from it."

"You have always been so kind to me! If you knew what pleasure it gives me at this moment to be sitting beside you again, looking at you, and reading what is written in your lovely, soft eyes! Oh! do not look away! Let me seek in them the hope of a sincere affection and an untroubled happiness!"

"Oh! mon Dieu! you make me tremble. Oh! pray don't say such things to me, if you don't mean them; for, you see, I too have been unhappy for such a long time! I have suffered in silence; for I dared not avow my sentiments; and I had to look on at the happiness of another, who was loved, adored, although she did not deserve such good-fortune; and I—I had to conceal all that I felt!"

Gustave seized Adolphine's hands and fell at her feet.

"Then it is true!" he cried; "you do love me? Ah! my whole life will be too short to pay you for this love! How many days of happiness I owe you in exchange for the torments I have caused you!"

"But it wasn't your fault, Gustave; you could not guess that I loved you. Besides, you loved my sister then; but now you don't love her any more, do you? Oh! tell me again that you don't love her!"

"As if it were possible for me to love her! Ah! my heart does not divide its allegiance, and now it is yours, yours only!"

"Mon Dieu! I must be dreaming, I am so happy!—Madeleine! Madeleine! come here! It is I whom he loves, it is I whom he wants to marry—and he knows that I will never refuse him!"

Madeleine was not far away. Servants are never far from people who are talking. She came skipping into the room like a crazy person, for she was really happy in her mistress's happiness.

"We were just talking about you when you came, monsieur," she said to Gustave; "I often talk about you to mamzelle, because I have found that that's the best way to make her listen to me. Dame! I'm from the country, but I guessed, all the same, what made mamzelle so sad; and now I'm sure that she'll be happy like me! and that she'll sing and dance like me!"

Monsieur Gerbault's arrival put an end to Madeleine's antics. He was surprised, as usual, to find Gustave in his house; but he was especially impressed on this occasion by the joy and happiness which he read on every face.

"Bless my soul!" he said, shaking hands with Gustave; "are you just back from the war, my friend? At all events, you have received a wound which proves that you don't turn your back on the foe."

"No, monsieur; it's the result of a duel. I am not quarrelsome, as you know, but a man cannot always be sure of himself."

"Have you returned to Paris for some time?"

"For always! I have no further desire to travel. My uncle, who is good enough to say that I understand the business very well, told me yesterday that he would make me his partner."

"The deuce! that's very nice, indeed; for your uncle's business is very extensive, I believe?"

"His profits never fall below sixty thousand francs a year."

"Of which you will have half. That makes you a rich parti!—Talking of partis, Adolphine, I have another one to propose to you; and this time perhaps you will accept, for you surely don't intend to die an old maid."

Adolphine looked anxiously at her father; Gustave himself had a vague feeling of apprehension. Monsieur Gerbault eyed them both with a sly expression, and continued:

"Yes, my child; a new suitor has come forward. He will never see twenty-five again, and he is not very rich; but he has a competence and an honorable position in society. It is Monsieur Batonnin."

"Monsieur Batonnin! Oh! I won't marry him. I won't marry anybody—that is to say—any of those who——"

Gustave made haste to interrupt Adolphine, and, going up to Monsieur Gerbault, said to him with the utmost seriousness:

"Monsieur, a long time ago I was to have been your son-in-law. Circumstances prevented it, and, if I must confess it, I think that I have every reason to thank destiny therefor. To-day, I come once more to ask your permission to become a member of your family. Mademoiselle Adolphine has consented to be my wife, and something tells me that she will not retract her word."

"Yes, father, yes.—Oh! I can't refuse Gustave. And you are willing that he should be my husband, aren't you?"

"Especially," replied Monsieur Gerbault, as he embraced his daughter, "especially as you have loved him for a long time!"

"What, father! you knew it? How strange! I never told anyone my secret."

"But a father's eyes are sharp-sighted, dear heart; and now I trust that you will recover your good spirits."

"Oh! father, I am so happy!"

"Take her, Gustave; she will not throw you over for another man. For, even when she could not possibly hope to be your wife, she refused all offers in order to be at liberty to love you. As for Monsieur Batonnin, I was sure beforehand of your reply; but, in order to soften your refusal, I will tell him that he came too late, because you are going to marry Gustave."