"After all," she said, "why did I receive him, when my first impulse was to send him that simple yet conclusive message: 'There is no reply!' That would have rid me of uncle and nephew at one stroke. But did the nephew deserve to be humiliated? Did he not come simply to rescue his honor from a detestable snare laid by his uncle? Had he not the right to say to me thereupon all that he did say to me, and was I offended by what he took the liberty of adding on his own account, although it was perhaps a little too sentimental? ought I to have been offended? It is of no use for me to ask the question, I cannot answer it. He offered himself, he gave himself to me, without asking for anything. He made me a present of his heart and his life, whether I would or not. He did not speak to me like a lover, no, indeed! but like a slave and a master at once. All this is very strange, and my brain is in a whirl. I do not know what it is that I feel for him. The only thing that is certain is that I believe in him." It seemed to Julie as well as to Madame Thierry and Marcel that the morrow of that strange day would probably be fraught with important events. In vain did they question themselves concerning Monsieur Antoine's wrath: to their great amazement neither the morrow nor the days following brought about any change in their respective situations. The horticulturist went into the country, no one knew where. There was no place for him to go, at least within the knowledge of Marcel, who thought that he knew all his business, but who really knew only a part of it. When he was thoroughly convinced of his uncle's absence, he became anxious about him; but he was shown orders written by his own hand, which his head gardener received each morning, detailing minutely the nature and extent of the care to be bestowed on certain delicate plants. These horticultural bulletins were undated and without stamps. They were brought by the ex-armorer's valet, an old sailor, who was the slave of his orders, obedient as a negro, dumb as an old stump. "Well!" said Marcel to Madame Thierry, "he is in the sulks, that is certain; or else he is ashamed of his madness and has gone into hiding for a little time. Let us hope that he will return cured of his matrimoniomania, and that he will consider his honor involved in carrying out a certain bargain relative to this pavilion. You need the indemnity, and I do not conceal from you that Madame d'Estrelle is greatly in need of the promised amount. I don't know what vicious insect is pricking her creditors, but suddenly they all begin to display the most extraordinary impatience and anxiety. They go so far as to threaten to transfer their claims to one principal creditor, who would surely speculate on my client's embarrassment, and that is the worst thing that could possibly happen."