Chapter 11 - Page 2

find two husbands like you for her daughters.
Fortunately she is not susceptible herself."

He did not understand her and repeated: "Susceptible herself?"

She replied in a tone of conviction: "Oh, Mme. Walter is
irreproachable. Her husband you know as well as I. But she is
different. Still she has suffered a great deal in having married a
Jew, though she has been true to him; she is a virtuous woman."

Du Roy was surprised: "I thought her a Jewess."

"She a Jewess! No, indeed! She is the prime mover in all the
charitable movements at the Madeleine. She was even married by a
priest. I am not sure but that M. Walter went through the form of
baptism."

Georges murmured: "And--she--likes--me--"

"Yes. If you were not married I should advise you to ask for the
hand of--Suzanne--would you not prefer her to Rose?"

He replied as he twisted his mustache: "Eh! the mother is not so
bad!"

Madeleine replied: "I am not afraid of her. At her age one does not
begin to make conquests--one should commence sooner."

Georges thought: "If I might have had Suzanne, ah!" Then he shrugged
his shoulders: "Bah, it is absurd; her father would not have
consented."

He determined to treat Mme. Walter very considerately in order to
retain her regard. All that evening he was haunted by recollections
of his love for Clotilde; he recalled their escapades, her kindness.
He repeated to himself: "She is indeed nice. Yes, I shall call upon
her to-morrow."

When he had lunched the following morning he repaired to Rue
Verneuil. The same maid opened the door, and with the familiarity of
an old servant she asked: "Is Monsieur well?"

He replied: "Yes, my child," and entered the drawing-room in which
some one was practising scales. It was Laurine. He expected she
would fall upon his neck. She, however, rose ceremoniously, bowed
coldly, and left the room with dignity; her manner was so much like
that of an outraged woman that he was amazed. Her mother entered. He
kissed her hand.

"How much I have thought of you," said he.

"And I of you," she replied.

They seated themselves and smiled as they gazed into one another's
eyes.

"My dear little Clo, I love you."

"And I love you."

"Still--still--you did not miss me."

"Yes and no. I was grieved, but when I heard your reason, I said to
myself: 'Bah, he will return to me some day.'"

"I dared not come. I did not know how I should be received. I dared
not, but I longed to come. Now, tell me what