and nodding pleasantly, she went toward the house.

Pierre followed her for a moment with his eyes, then, turning toward his
betrothed, said:

"Micheline, shall I tell you your secret? You no longer love me."

The young girl started. The attack was direct. She must at once give an
explanation. She had often thought of what she would say when Pierre
came back to her. The day had arrived unexpectedly. And the answers she
had prepared had fled. The truth appeared harsh and cold. She
understood that the change in her was treachery, of which Pierre was the
innocent victim; and feeling herself to blame, she waited tremblingly the
explosion of this loyal heart so cruelly wounded. She stammered, in
tremulous accents:

"Pierre, my friend, my brother."

"Your brother!" cried the young man, bitterly. "Was that the name you
were to give me on my return?"

At these words, which so completely summed up the situation, Micheline
remained silent. Still she felt that at all hazards she must defend
herself. Her mother might come in at any moment. Between Madame
Desvarennes and her betrothed, what would become of her? The hour was
decisive. Her strong love for Serge gave her fresh energy.

"Why did you go away?" she asked, with sadness.

Pierre raised with pride his head which had been bent with anguish.