One day Micheline came down to see her mother.  It was more than a month since she had visited her.  In a moment Madame Desvarennes saw that she had something of an embarrassing nature to speak of.  To begin with she was more affectionate than usual, seeming to wish with the honey of her kisses to sweeten the bitter cross which the mistress was doomed to bear.  Then she hesitated.  She fidgeted about the room humming.  At last she said that the doctor had come at the request of Serge, who was most anxious about his wife’s health.  And that excellent Doctor Rigaud, who had known her from a child, had found her suffering from great weakness.  He had ordered change of air.

At these words Madame Desvarennes raised her head and gave her daughter a terrible look: 

“Come, no nonsense!  Speak the truth!  He is taking you away!”

“But, mamma,” said Micheline, disconcerted at this interruption, “I assure you, you are mistaken.  Anxiety for my health alone guides my husband.”

“Your husband!” broke forth Madame Desvarennes.  “Your husband!  Ah, there; go away!  Because if you stop here, I shall not be able to control myself, and shall say things about him that you will not forgive in a hurry!  As you are ill, you are right to have change of air.  I shall remain here, without you, fastened to my chain, earning money for you while you are far, away.  Go along!”

And seizing her daughter by the arm with convulsive strength, she pushed her roughly; for the first time in her life, repeating, in a low tone: 

“Go away!  Leave me alone!”

Micheline suffered herself to be put outside the room, and went to her own apartments astonished and frightened.  The young wife had hardly left the room when Madame Desvarennes suffered the reaction of the emotion she had just felt.  Her nerves were unstrung, and falling on a chair she remained immovable and humbled.  Was it possible that her daughter, her adored child, would abandon her to obey the grudges of her husband?  No, Micheline, when back in her room, would remember that she was carrying away all the joy of the house, and that it was cruel to deprive her mother of her only happiness in life.

Slightly reassured, she went down to the office.  As she reached the landing, she saw the Prince’s servants carrying up trunks belonging to their master to be packed.  She felt sick at heart.  She understood that this project had been discussed and settled beforehand.  It seemed to her that all was over; that her daughter was going away forever, and that she would never see her again.  She thought of going to beseech Serge and ask him what sum he would take in exchange for Micheline’s liberty; but the haughty and sarcastic face of the Prince forcibly putting the bank-notes in her hands, passed before her, and she guessed that she would not obtain anything.  Cast down and despairing, she entered her office and set to work.

The next day, by the evening express, the Prince and Princess left for Nice with all their household, and the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique remained silent and deserted.