"It is she! it certainly is, messieurs. See, she's coming toward us! There's no doubt about it now." XXIV THE MOTIVE It was, in fact, Georgette, dressed in good taste, but very simply, and wearing one of the skirts then in fashion, which transformed a woman into a sugar loaf. She was arm in arm with Colinet, who had entirely laid aside his artless, timid manner. Georgette and her escort walked up to the three gentlemen, and the young woman bowed pleasantly to them, saying: "Excuse me, messieurs, for having kept you waiting. It was our driver's fault, for his horses hardly crawled. Allow me, first of all, to present my husband, Monsieur Colinet." Colinet gravely saluted the three men, who returned his salutation. "Did she send for us to introduce her husband?" they said to themselves. "That was hardly worth while!" "I asked you to meet me in this garden, messieurs," continued Georgette, "because I know that there are paths here where very few people pass, and where we can talk as if we were at home. I see one on the other side of these flower beds, where we shall be very comfortable; will you have the kindness to go there with me?" The three gentlemen bowed, and the whole party walked to a path, usually quite deserted, where there were benches. Georgette and her husband having seated themselves, the others did the same, and the little groom stood at some distance. Then the young woman turned to Messieurs de Sommerston and de Mardeille, and addressed them thus: "A few words will suffice to inform you why I acted as I did with respect to you. In the first place, messieurs, I am neither from Normandie nor from Bordeaux; I am a Lorrainer; Toul is my native place; my parents, who are poor but honorable farmers, are named Granery; I am the sister of Aimée and Suzanne." The viscount and Monsieur de Mardeille made a gesture of surprise and their brows grew dark when they heard those names; while Dupont thought: "What has this to do with me?" "Yes," continued Georgette, addressing Mardeille, "I am the sister of that poor Aimée, who came to Paris, where she hoped, by means of her skill in embroidery, to be able to help her parents. As ill luck would have it, she fell in with you. Aimée was beautiful, and she caught your fancy; being innocent and inexperienced, she believed your fine speeches, your promises, your oaths--in short, she allowed herself to be seduced. A child, a son, was the result of her misstep. But you had already begun to act differently toward her, your visits became more rare; and when she asked you for the means to support and bring up her child, then you ceased entirely to see her. Ah! monsieur, a man must be very hard-hearted to behave like that. To stop loving a person is possible, I admit; but to spurn a mother who asks you for bread for her child! Oh! that is shameful!" Monsieur de Mardeille hung his head and made no reply. Thereupon Georgette turned to the viscount: