"It is true that creditors---- Look you, my dear Dubourg, you have all the qualities of a charming companion: you know all the good authors, you know history; take my advice, reform, settle down----"

"I have done it; it's all over now: no more gambling, no more escapades, no more drunkenness.--But we aren't drinking."

"Your health, my dear friend!"

"No more fairy tales, no more lies."

"Ah, yes! no more lies, above all; for lying destroys confidence; and then, you made me look like an idiot."

"Oh! not altogether."

"That's a very handsome seal ring of yours."

"It's an emerald that was worn by Ali Pacha."

"It's magnificent."

"Another gla.s.s."

"Dear Dubourg! My friend, I am extremely glad to have renewed my acquaintance with you."

The liqueur and the punch had completely melted Menard, who, when he parted from Dubourg, called him his loving friend, and a.s.sured him that he might safely go to the Hotel de Montreville, that monsieur le comte bore him no ill-will and would receive him cordially.

On the day following this meeting, Dubourg did, in fact, call upon Frederic, who had just returned from the general's country house. He pa.s.sed all his time with Mademoiselle de Valmont. As it was no longer necessary that he should be accompanied by his father, for the general treated him like his own son, he made the most of the liberty accorded him. Every day, he invented some pretext for going to see Constance; for he persisted in deluding himself, in excusing himself in his own eyes, and strove to persuade himself that there was no trace of love in the feeling that drew him to the general's niece. He still thought of Sister Anne, but no longer with the same ardor and affection, and that was what he refused to acknowledge to himself; perhaps, if he should see her again, it would still be inexpressibly sweet to him to hold her in his arms. But it was not she whom he saw, it was Constance; Constance, who was more amiable, more tender, more sentimental with him, day by day; who felt such unbounded pleasure in seeing him and made no attempt to conceal it. Already there was the closest intimacy between them. When she pa.s.sed two or three days without seeing him, she would reproach him good-naturedly, and avow that she was vexed at his absence; and she said it with such perfect candor and sincerity that Frederic was deeply touched. However, he had never breathed a word of love to her; but is it necessary to speak to make one's self understood? and what woman, in Constance's place, would not have believed that she was loved?

At sight of Dubourg, Frederic made a gesture of surprise; a keen observer might even have detected a trace of embarra.s.sment.

"Here I am," said Dubourg; "I have been in Paris only a week."

"Yes, I supposed that you were away. But why this mourning?"

"Ah! my friend, my poor aunt--she is no more!"

At this point, Dubourg drew his handkerchief and blew his nose three or four times.

"Come, come, Dubourg, stop blowing your nose; you know perfectly well that you're not crying."

"Never mind; she was a most respectable old lady: she has left me sixteen hundred francs a year."

"That is something; try not to gamble it away."

"What do you say? Why, ecarte is like an emetic to me. But tell me about your love affairs. Do you know, you don't seem to me to look any too wretched for an unhappy lover."

"But I---- Since my father suddenly appeared at Gren.o.ble, where I had gone to find out something about you, I have not been able to see that poor girl, we started for Paris so hurriedly! Since then, he hardly leaves my side. I could write--but who would read my letters? we can't use that method; and I don't know how to communicate with her."

"Well, I can tell you something."

"Have you seen her?"

"Yes; but it was a long while ago--about a fortnight after you left."

"Well! where was she? what was she doing?"

"Where was she? in the woods, returning from the road, where she had been watching for you, no doubt. What was she doing?--weeping; that is her only resource now, I fancy."

"She was weeping!"

"Yes; and I confess that she made my heart ache."

"Poor child! but you spoke to her, I suppose--she saw you? Tell me about it."

"She saw me; indeed, she recognized me, although she had seen me only once. You didn't tell me that she was dumb, but I very soon understood her pantomime. She counted off the days you had been away, and asked me if you would return soon. I told her _yes_."

"Ah! you did well."

"But that was three months ago."

"True: but I haven't been able----"

"I left her at last, after giving her a little hope; I could do nothing more for her; but in three months that hope must have vanished."

Dubourg said no more, and Frederic sat for some moments buried in melancholy reflections.

"If you knew, Dubourg," he said at last, "what a most surprising thing has happened to me!"

"I should know, if you told me."

"It is really inconceivable; it is a stroke of fate. On returning to Paris, I found Sister Anne."

"You found her here?"

"Yes; I saw her again--in another woman, the niece of General de Valmont, a former comrade in arms of my father. Why, my friend, it is an astonishing thing--I never saw such a perfect resemblance."

"Ah! I begin to understand."

"If you should see Constance,--that is the name of the general's niece,--you would be as surprised as I was--not at once, but on a close examination."

"Ah! you were surprised after some time, eh?"

"It's her eyes--their sweet expression. Constance's are a little darker, to be sure. The hair is the same color; the forehead as high and n.o.ble; the same complexion--but Constance isn't as pale as Sister Anne. The same expression in the features."

"I am surprised that a general's niece should have all the features of a goatherd."

"Of course, there's the difference due to rank and education and social customs. In the first place, Constance is much taller; she has a beautiful, well-proportioned figure; but so has Sister Anne. Constance has the grace, the dignified carriage which no one can attain who lives in the woods."

"Ah! you have discovered that now."

"And she has a charming voice, an enchanting voice, that goes to the very bottom of your heart. Well, my friend, when I listen to her, I persuade myself that the poor orphan is no longer dumb; I imagine that I am listening to her; her voice, I am sure, would have the same sweet quality, the same fascination. So that I am deeply moved when I listen to that other voice."