“I wish,” he said finally, “I could have given that joy to Mademoiselle Celeste, but I think, madame, you are mistaken.”

“Ah! monsieur, then I must be more precise,” said the countess, “and if your modesty still induces you to hide a step that can only honor you, you can contradict me; I will bear the mortification of having divulged a secret which, I acknowledge, you trusted implicitly to my discretion.”

Madame Thuillier and Celeste were truly a whole drama to behold; never were doubt and eager expectation more plainly depicted on the human face.  Measuring her words deliberately, Madame de Godollo thus continued:—­

“I said to these ladies, because I know how deep an interest they take in your salvation, and because you are accused of boldly defying the commandments of God by working on Sundays, that I had met you this morning at the house of Pere Anselme, a mathematician like yourself, with whom you were busy in solving a problem; I said that your scientific intercourse with that saintly and enlightened man had led to other explanations between you; that you had submitted to him your religious doubts, and he did not despair of removing them.  In the confirmation you can give of my words there is nothing, I am sure, to wound your self-esteem.  The matter was simply a surprise you intended for Celeste, and I have had the stupidity to divulge it.  But when she hears you admit the truth of my words you will have given her such happiness that I shall hope to be forgiven.”

“Come, monsieur,” said la Peyrade, “there’s nothing absurd or mortifying in having sought for light; you, so honorable and so truly an enemy to falsehood, you cannot deny what madame affirms with such decision.”

“Well,” said Felix, after a moment’s hesitation, “will you, Mademoiselle Celeste, allow me to say a few words to you in private, without witnesses?”

Celeste rose, after receiving an approving sign from Madame Thuillier.  Felix took her hand and led her to the recess of the nearest window.

“Celeste,” he said, “I entreat you:  wait!  See,” he added, pointing to the constellation of Ursa Minor, “beyond those visible stars a future lies before us; I will place you there.  As for Pere Anselme, I cannot admit what has been said, for it is not true.  It is an invented tale.  But be patient with me; you shall soon know all.”

“He is mad!” said the young girl, in tones of despair, as she resumed her place beside Madame Thuillier.

Felix confirmed this judgment by rushing frantically from the salon, without perceiving the emotion in which his father and his mother started after him.  After this sudden departure, which stupefied everybody, la Peyrade approached Madame de Godollo very respectfully, and said to her:—­

“You must admit, madame, that it is difficult to drag a man from the water when he persists in being drowned.”

“I had no idea until this moment of such utter simplicity,” replied the countess; “it is too silly.  I pass over to the enemy; and with that enemy I am ready and desirous to have, whenever he pleases, a frank and honest explanation.”