“I?  Oh, I can say nothing.  I can only thank you for having accepted Jean, for you will make him very happy.”

“We will do our best, mamma.”

Somewhat overcome, for the first time, Mme. Rosemilly rose, and throwing her arms round Mme. Roland, kissed her a long time as a child of her own might have done; and under this new embrace the poor woman’s sick heart swelled with deep emotion.  She could not have expressed the feeling; it was at once sad and sweet.  She had lost her son, her big boy, but in return she had found a daughter, a grown-up daughter.

When they faced each other again, and were seated, they took hands and remained so, looking at each and smiling, while they seemed to have forgotten Jean.

Then they discussed a number of things which had to be thought of in view of an early marriage, and when everything was settled and decided Mme. Rosemilly seemed suddenly to remember a further detail and asked:  “You have consulted M. Roland, I suppose?”

A flush of colour mounted at the same instant on the face of both mother and son.  It was the mother who replied: 

“Oh, no, it is quite unnecessary!” Then she hesitated, feeling that some explanation was needed, and added:  “We do everything without saying anything to him.  It is enough to tell him what we have decided on.”

Mme. Rosemilly, not in the least surprised, only smiled, taking it as a matter of course, for the good man counted for so little.

When Mme. Roland was in the street again with her son she said: 

“Suppose we go to your rooms for a little while.  I should be glad to rest.”

She felt herself homeless, shelterless, her own house being a terror to her.

They went into Jean’s apartments.

As soon as the door was closed upon her she heaved a deep sigh, as if that bolt had placed her in safety, but then, instead of resting as she had said, she began to open the cupboards, to count the piles of linen, the pocket-handkerchiefs, and socks.  She changed the arrangement to place them in more harmonious order, more pleasing to her housekeeper’s eye; and when she had put everything to her mind, laying out the towels, the shirts, and the drawers on their several shelves and dividing all the linen into three principal classes, body-linen, household-linen, and table-linen, she drew back and contemplated the results, and called out: 

“Come here, Jean, and see how nice it looks.”

He went and admired it to please her.

On a sudden, when he had sat down again, she came softly up behind his arm-chair, and putting her right arm round his neck she kissed him, while she laid on the chimney-shelf a small packet wrapped in white paper which she held in the other hand.

“What is that?” he asked.  Then, as she made no reply, he understood, recognising the shape of the frame.

“Give it me!” he said.