"Why, I'm killing two birds with one stone! It was as easy to rescue two as one. Think of the time it would have taken, the efforts--useless efforts, perhaps--to worm myself into that child's friendship! What was I to her? What should I be now? An unknown person . . . a stranger. Whereas now I am the rescuer. In an hour I shall be . . . the friend." She began to tremble: "So . . . so you did not rescue Geneviève. . . . So you are going to mix us up in your affairs. . . ." And, suddenly, in a fit of rebellion, seizing him by the shoulders, "No, I won't have it, do you understand? You brought the child to me one day, saying, 'Here, I entrust her to you . . . her father and mother are dead . . . take her under your protection.' Well, she's under my protection now and I shall know how to defend her against you and all your manœuvers!" Standing straight upright, in a very determined attitude, Mme. Ernemont seemed ready for all emergencies. Slowly and deliberately Sernine loosened the two hands, one after the other, that held him, and in his turn, took the old lady by the shoulders, forced her into an arm-chair, stooped over and, in a very calm voice, said: "Rot!" She began to cry and, clasping her hands together, implored him: "I beseech you, leave us in peace. We were so happy! I thought that you had forgotten us and I blessed Heaven every time a day had passed. Why, yes . . . I love you just the same. But, Geneviève . . . you see, there's nothing that I wouldn't do for that child. She has taken your place in my heart." "So I perceive," said he, laughing. "You would send me to the devil with pleasure. Come, enough of this nonsense! I have no time to waste. I must talk to Geneviève." "You're going to talk to her?" "Well, is that a crime?" "And what have you to tell her?" "A secret . . . a very grave secret . . . and a very touching one. . . ." The old lady took fright: "And one that will cause her sorrow, perhaps? Oh, I fear everything, I fear everything, where she's concerned! . . ." "She is coming," he said. "No, not yet." "Yes, yes, I hear her. . . . Wipe your eyes and be sensible." "Listen," said she, eagerly, "listen. I don't know what you are going to say, what secret you mean to reveal to this child whom you don't know. But I, who do know her, tell you this: Geneviève has a very plucky, very spirited, but very sensitive nature. Be careful how you choose your words. . . . You might wound feelings . . . the existence of which you cannot even suspect. . . ." "Lord bless me! And why not?" "Because she belongs to another race than you, to a different world. . . . I mean, a different moral world. . . . There are things which you are forbidden to understand nowadays. Between you and her, the obstacle is insurmountable. . . . Geneviève has the most unblemished and upright conscience . . . and you . . ." "And I?" "And you are not an honest man!" Geneviève entered, bright and charming: