a long look, while saying in a somewhat tremulous voice: "I am pleased,
very pleased to see you, Guillaume. I may confess it now, I thought I had
lost you, I was very anxious and very unhappy."

Although she was still smiling, tears had gathered in her eyes, and he,
likewise moved, again kissed her, murmuring: "Dear Marie! How happy it
makes me to find you as beautiful and as affectionate as ever."

Pierre, who was looking at them, deemed them cold. He had doubtless
expected more tears, and a more passionate embrace on the part of an
affianced pair, whom so grievous an accident had separated almost on the
eve of their wedding. Moreover, his feelings were hurt by the
disproportion of their respective ages. No doubt his brother still seemed
to him very sturdy and young, and his feeling of repulsion must have come
from that young woman whom, most decidedly, he did not like. Ever since
her arrival he had experienced increasing discomfort, a keener and keener
desire to go off and never return.

So acute became his suffering at feeling like a stranger in his brother's
home, that he at last rose and sought to take his leave, under the
pretext that he had some urgent matters to attend to in town.

"What! you won't stay to /dejeuner/ with us!" exclaimed Guillaume in
perfect stupefaction. "Why, it was agreed! You surely won't distress me
like that! This house is your own, remember!"

Then, as with genuine affection they all protested and pressed him to
stay, he was obliged to do so. However, he soon relapsed into silence and
embarrassment, seated on the same chair as before, and listening moodily
to those people who, although they were his relatives, seemed to be far