Adored, respected!  He repeated these words to himself.  One could, then, be happy by making others happy.  He had had so little opportunity until this time to do for others, that this was in some sort the revelation of a sentiment that he was astonished to feel, but which, for being new, was only the sweeter to him.

He wished to give himself the satisfaction of tasting all the sweetness.

“Where are you going this morning?” he asked.

“I return to the school to help my pupils prepare their compositions for the prize.”

“Very well; while you are at the school this morning, I will go to see your mother.  The process of asking in marriage that we make use of is perhaps original, and conforms to the laws of nature, if nature admits marriage, which I ignore; but it certainly is not the way of those of the world.  And now I must address this request to your mother.”

“What joy you will give her!”

“I hope so.”

“I should like to be there to enjoy her happiness.  Mamma has a mania for marriage; she spends her time marrying the people she knows or those she does not know.  And she has felt convinced that I should die in the yellow skin of an old maid.  At last, this evening she will have the happiness of announcing to me your visit and your request.  But do not make this visit until the afternoon, because then our cousin will be gone.”

Saniel spent his morning in looking for apartments, and found one in a quarter of the Invalides, which he engaged.

It was nearly one o’clock when he reached Madame Cormier’s.  As usual, when he called, she looked at him with anxious curiosity, thinking of Florentin.

“It is not of him that I wish to speak to you to-day,” he said, without pronouncing any name, which was unnecessary.  “It is of Mademoiselle Phillis—­”

“Do you find her ill?” Madame Cormier said, who thought only of misfortune.

“Not at all.  It is of her and of myself that I wish to speak.  Do not be uneasy.  I hope that what I am going to say will not be a cause of sadness to you.”

“Pardon me if I always see something to fear.  We have been so frightfully tried, so unjustly!”

He interrupted her, for these complaints did not please him.

“For a long time,” he said quickly, “Mademoiselle Phillis has inspired me with a deep sentiment of esteem and tenderness; I have not been able to see her so courageous, so brave in adversity, so decided in her character, so good to you, so charming, without loving her, and I have come to ask you to give her to me as my wife.”

At Saniel’s words, Madame Cormier’s hands began to tremble, and the trembling increased.

“Is it possible?” she murmured, beginning to cry.  “So great a happiness for my daughter!  Such an honor for us, for us, for us!”

“I love her.”

“Forgive me if happiness makes me forget the conventionalities, but I lose my head.  We are so unhappy that our souls are weak against joy.  Perhaps I should hide my daughter’s sentiments; but I cannot help telling you that this esteem, this tenderness of which you speak, is felt by her.  I discovered it long ago, although she did not tell me.  Your request, then, can only be received with joy by mother, as well as daughter.”