“You are the master of your actions, monsieur,” replied Adeline, without looking up at her husband; “you would be very foolish to put yourself out for me.” Edouard did not expect to find such submission; he dreaded reproaches, complaints and tears; but Adeline did not say another word; she seemed resigned, she sighed and held her peace. This behavior produced more effect on her husband’s heart than outcries and remonstrances; he felt touched; he was on the point of falling at his wife’s feet and asking her pardon for his misdeed; but Madame de Géran’s image presented itself to his mind and changed all his sensations; he repelled a sentimentality too vulgar for a man of fashion, and returned to his new plans. “Madame, you have expressed a wish to return to the country; the summer is advancing and you must take advantage of it. Moreover, I believe that it will be an excellent thing for our child. I advise you to start at once. I cannot go with you now, for some important matters keep me in Paris; but I hope to come to see you often.” “Very well, monsieur; I will make all necessary preparations for going away and for my stay in the country, where I shall remain until I receive your orders to return.” “On my honor,” said Edouard to himself, “my wife is charming! such obedience! It is altogether extraordinary.” He took Adeline’s hand and pressed it lightly; and paying no heed to the trembling of that once cherished hand, he imprinted a very cold kiss upon it, and hurried away with the rapidity of a schoolboy when he hears the bell ring for recess. “He wants me to go away,” said Adeline to herself when she was alone; “my presence embarrasses him. Well, we will go. What does it matter to me now in what part of the world I live, since I shall find happiness nowhere? I have lost my husband’s love, I have lost honor and repose of mind; I will go away and conceal my melancholy existence; for my daughter’s sake only do I desire to preserve it, and I will devote it entirely to her. Poor child! What would become of you if you should lose me?” Adeline embraced her daughter; only by reminding herself that she was a mother could she succeed in reviving her vanishing courage. She made preparations for her departure for Villeneuve-Saint-Georges; she would have been glad to induce her mother to accompany her; but Mamma Germeuil cared very little for the country; she had her own habits, her acquaintances in Paris, and old age always grows selfish; she felt that she had but few pleasures left to enjoy, and she did not care to sacrifice any of them.