Without indulging any longer in meditation or wonder, François set off on his way home, determined to speak of his plan to Madame Blanchet without loss of time, and on his knees to entreat her to accept him as her protector, in the name of God, and for eternal life. When he reached Cormouer, he saw Madeleine spinning on her door-step, and for the first time in his life her face had the effect of making him timid and confused. He was in the habit of walking straight up to her, looking her full in the face to ask her how she did; but this time he paused on the little bridge as if he were examining the mill-dam, and only looked at her out of the corners of his eyes. When she turned toward him, he moved farther away, not understanding himself what his trouble was, or why a matter which, a few minutes ago, had seemed to him so natural and opportune, should suddenly become so awkward to confess. Madeleine called him. "Come here to me," said she, "for I have something to say to you, dear François. We are alone, so come and sit down beside me, and open your heart to me, as if I were your father-confessor, for I want to hear the truth from you." François was reassured by Madeleine's words, and he sat down beside her. "I promise, my dear mother," said he, "to open my heart to you as I do to God, and to give you a true confession." He fancied that something had come to her ears which had brought her to the same conclusion as himself; he was delighted, and waited to hear what she had to say. "François," she went on, "you are in your twenty-first year, and it is time for you to think of marrying; you are not opposed to it, I hope?" "No, I am not opposed to anything you wish," answered François, blushing with pleasure; "go on, my dear Madeleine." "Good!" said she. "I expected this, and I have guessed the right thing. Since you wish it, I wish it too, and perhaps I thought of it before you did. I was waiting to see whether the person in question cared for you, and I think that if she does not as yet, she will, very soon. Don't you think so, too, and shall I tell you where you stand? Why do you look at me with such a puzzled expression? Don't I speak clearly enough? I see that you are shy about it, and I must help you out. Well, the poor child pouted all the morning because you teased her a little yesterday, and I dare say she thinks you do not love her. But I know that you do love her, and if you scold her sometimes for her little caprices it is because you are a trifle jealous. You must not hold back for that, François. She is young and pretty; but though there is some danger in this, if she truly loves you she will willingly submit herself to you." "I should like," said François, much disappointed, "to know whom you are talking of, my dear mother, for I am wholly at a loss." "Really!" said Madeleine; "don't you know what I mean? Am I dreaming, or are you trying to keep a secret from me?"