Maybe Nana was still crying.  The other must have grown savage and have dealt her blows.  Thus when Zoe finally took her departure he ran to the door and once more pressed his ear against it.  He was thunderstruck; his head swam, for he heard a brisk outburst of gaiety, tender, whispering voices and the smothered giggles of a woman who is being tickled.  Besides, almost directly afterward, Nana conducted Philippe to the head of the stairs, and there was an exchange of cordial and familiar phrases.

When Georges again ventured into the drawing room the young woman was standing before the mirror, looking at herself.

“Well?” he asked in utter bewilderment.

“Well, what?” she said without turning round.  Then negligently: 

“What did you mean?  He’s very nice, is your brother!”

“So it’s all right, is it?”

“Oh, certainly it’s all right!  Goodness me, what’s come over you?  One would have thought we were going to fight!”

Georges still failed to understand.

“I thought I heard—­that is, you didn’t cry?” he stammered out.

“Me cry!” she exclaimed, looking fixedly at him.  “Why, you’re dreaming!  What makes you think I cried?”

Thereupon the lad was treated to a distressing scene for having disobeyed and played Paul Pry behind the door.  She sulked, and he returned with coaxing submissiveness to the old subject, for he wished to know all about it.

“And my brother then?”

“Your brother saw where he was at once.  You know, I might have been a tottie, in which case his interference would have been accounted for by your age and the family honor!  Oh yes, I understand those kinds of feelings!  But a single glance was enough for him, and he behaved like a well-bred man at once.  So don’t be anxious any longer.  It’s all over—­he’s gone to quiet your mamma!”

And she went on laughingly: 

“For that matter, you’ll see your brother here.  I’ve invited him, and he’s going to return.”

“Oh, he’s going to return,” said the lad, growing white.  He added nothing, and they ceased talking of Philippe.  She began dressing to go out, and he watched her with his great, sad eyes.  Doubtless he was very glad that matters had got settled, for he would have preferred death to a rupture of their connection, but deep down in his heart there was a silent anguish, a profound sense of pain, which he had no experience of and dared not talk about.  How Philippe quieted their mother’s fears he never knew, but three days later she returned to Les Fondettes, apparently satisfied.  On the evening of her return, at Nana’s house, he trembled when Francois announced the lieutenant, but the latter jested gaily and treated him like a young rascal, whose escapade he had favored as something not likely to have any consequences.  The lad’s heart was sore within him; he scarcely dared move and blushed girlishly at the least word that was spoken to him.