He asked nothing better than to be a son to this poor woman; in reality he was worth much more than this unfortunate boy, effeminate and incapable. What did this maternal hunger require? A son to love. She would find one in her son-in-law. In seeing her daughter happy, how could she help being happy herself? Evidently they would be happy, the mother and daughter; and whatever Phillis might think, still under the influence of the shameful blow, they would forget. They would owe him this. It was a long time since he had worked with so much serenity as on this day; and when in the evening he went to bed, uneasy as usual about the night, he slept as calmly as if Phillis were resting her charming head on his shoulder and he breathed the perfume of it. Decidedly, to make others happy was the best thing in the world, and as long as one could have this satisfaction there was no fear of being unhappy. To create an atmosphere of happiness for others is to profit by it at the same time. He waited for Phillis impatiently, for she would bring him an echo of her mother’s joy, and it was a recompense that she owed him. She arrived happy, smiling, penetrated with tenderness; but he observed that she was keeping something from him, something that embarrassed her, and yet she would not tell him what it was. He was not disposed to admit that she could conceal anything from him, and he questioned her. “What are you keeping from me?” “How can you suppose that I should keep anything from you?” “Well, what is the matter? You know, do you not, that I read all your thoughts in your eyes? Very well your eyes speak when your lips are silent.” “I have a request to make of you, a prayer.” “Why do you not tell me?” “Because I do not dare.” “Yet it does not seem to me that I show a disposition to make you believe that I could refuse you anything.” “It is just that which is the cause of my embarrassment and reserve; I fear to pain you at the moment when I would show you all the gratitude and love in my heart.” “If you are going to give me pain, it is better not to make me wait.” She hesitated; then, before an impatient gesture, she decided to speak. “I wish to ask you how you mean to be married?” He looked at her in surprise. “But, like every one else!” “Every one?” she asked, persistently. “Is there any other way of being married?” “Yes.” “I do not in the least understand this manner of asking conundrums; if you are alluding to a fashionable custom of which I know nothing, say so frankly. That will not wound me, since I am the first to declare that I know nothing of it. What do you wish?” She felt his irritation increase, and yet she could not decide to say what she wished.