"Well, the mother knows nothing and has seen nobody. It was a foregone conclusion." She sank down as if from some supreme collapse, and her ashen face became quite distorted. "You are right, it was certain," said she; "still one always hopes." And with a gesture of despair she added: "It is all ended now. Everything fails me, my last dream is dead." Mathieu pressed her hand and remained waiting for her to give an address in order that he might transmit it to the driver. But she seemed to have lost her head and to have forgotten where she wished to go. Then, as she asked him if he would like her to set him down anywhere, he replied that he wished to call on the Séguins. The fear of finding herself alone again so soon after the blow which had fallen on her thereupon gave her the idea of paying a visit to Valentine, whom she had not seen for some time past. "Get in," she said to Mathieu; "we will go to the Avenue d'Antin together." The vehicle rolled off and heavy silence fell between them; they had not a word to say to one another. However, as they were reaching their destination, Constance exclaimed in a bitter voice: "You must give my husband the good news, and tell him that the boy has disappeared. Ah! what a relief for him!" Mathieu, on calling in the Avenue d'Antin, had hoped to find the Séguins assembled there. Séguin himself had returned to Paris, nobody knew whence, a week previously, when Andrée's hand had been formally asked of him; and after an interview with his uncle Du Hordel he had evinced great willingness and cordiality. Indeed, the wedding had immediately been fixed for the month of May, when the Froments also hoped to marry off their daughter Rose. The two weddings, it was thought, might take place at Chantebled on the same day, which would be delightful. This being arranged, Ambroise was accepted as _fiancé_, and to his great delight was able to call at the Séguins' every day, about five o'clock, to pay his court according to established usage. It was on account of this that Mathieu fully expected to find the whole family at home. When Constance asked for Valentine, however, a footman informed her that Madame had gone out. And when Mathieu in his turn asked for Séguin, the man replied that Monsieur was also absent. Only Mademoiselle was at home with her betrothed. On learning this the visitors went upstairs. "What! are you left all alone?" exclaimed Mathieu on perceiving the young couple seated side by side on a little couch in the big room on the first floor, which Séguin had once called his "cabinet." "Why, yes, we are alone in the house," Andrée answered with a charming laugh. "We are very pleased at it." They looked adorable, thus seated side by side--she so gentle, of such tender beauty--he with all the fascinating charm that was blended with his strength. "Isn't Céleste there at any rate?" again inquired Mathieu.