Micheline entered, anxious at the long interview between Serge and her
mother. She saw them hand in hand. She uttered a joyful cry, and threw
her arms caressingly round her mother's neck.

"Well! you are agreed?" she said, making a gracious sign to Serge.

"He has been charming," replied Madame Desvarennes, whispering in her
daughter's ear. "He agrees to live in this house, and that quite
gracefully. There, child, this is the happiest moment I've had since
your engagement. I admit that I regret nothing."

Then, resuming aloud:

"We will leave to-morrow for Cernay, where the marriage shall take place.
I shall have to order the workmen in here to get ready for your
reception. Besides the wedding will be more brilliant in the country.
We shall have all the work-people there. We will throw the park open to
the countryside; it will be a grand fete. For we are lords of the manor
there," added she, with pride.

"You are right, mamma; it will be far better," exclaimed Micheline.
And taking Serge by the hand:

"Come, let us go," said she, and led him into the garden.

And amid the sweet-smelling shrubs they resumed their walk, always the
same yet ever new, their arms twined round each other, the young girl
clinging to him whom she loved, and he looking fondly at her, and with
caressing voice telling her the oft-told tale of love which she was never