day.  But when?  His father is forty-five and an athlete, and has an iron constitution.  So I was obliged to admit it when I talked it over with mamma in the evening.  To be duchess it was necessary to agree on M. de Courtalin.  Mamma, however, was perfect, and delightfully gentle.  She did not press me, nor treat me harshly, nor torment me; she waited.  Only I knew she had said to Mme. de Nelly:  ’It will be accomplished, my dear, before the 20th of June.  It must be.’  Papa was obliged to return to Aix for his complaint.  The 20th of June was the date for his departure.  I no longer said, ’No, no, no!’ with that savage energy of the year before.  You see, Gontran, I open my whole heart to you; you will have, I hope, soon the same courage and sincerity.”

“You may be sure of it.”

“I was waiting, however—­I was waiting for his return.  I wished to have with him a very serious conversation.  It is quite true that I felt like fainting with fear at the mere thought of that explanation; but I was none the less resolved to speak, and I would speak.  It seemed to me impossible that he had not thought of me sometimes out there in China and Cochin China.  We had always loved each other (till the unhappy day on which I had become marriageable) with a tender and faithful affection!  I knew that he would arrive in Paris during the night of the 2d or 3d of April.  Very certainly the day after he would come and see us.  And so, in fact, towards two o’clock he came.  Mamma hadn’t finished dressing; I was alone.  I ran to him.  ‘Ah, how glad I am to see you!’ and I kissed him with effusion.  Then he, very much moved, yes, very much moved, kissed me, and began to say to me such nice and pretty things that I felt my heart melting.  Ah, if mamma hadn’t come for five minutes—­I would only have asked for five minutes!—­and how quickly it would have turned into love-making our little explanation!”

“Yes, that is true.  The impulse that threw you into my arms was so sincere.  Ah, very certainly it was that day, at that moment, that I began to love you.  And then I looked at you.  You were no longer the same.  There was such great and happy change.”

“He does not dare say it, Aunt Louise, but I will say it:  I had become fatter.  Ah, when I think that I might be Duchess of Courtalin if I had remained thin.  Those men!  Those men!  What wretches!  But mamma came in, then papa, and then my brother George.  No explanation possible!  There they all were engaged in an odious conversation on the comparative merits of the English and French boats—­the English ones are faster, the food on the French ones is better, etc.  It was charming!  At the end of an hour Gontran went away, but not without giving me a very tender and eloquent hand-shake.  I could wish nothing more speaking than that hand-shake.  But mamma, who was observing us attentively, had clearly seen our two hands, after having found a way to say very pleasant things, had had a great deal of trouble in separating.  I expected, of course, to see him the next day.  Did you come?”