They drew near. The mother sat down on a bench near the corner of the wall. She had a book, but she placed it by her side and did not read. Why did she not read? Of what was she thinking? She did not talk with her daughter; her brow was careworn and her eyes were heavy. Was she already weary of dissipation? Henriette ran to her and offered her some flowers which she had just plucked. She took her daughter between her knees, gazed at her, and suddenly kissed her several times in a sort of frenzy, then released her and relapsed into a reverie. Never had she embraced her daughter like that in my presence; was it that she was afraid of pleasing me by allowing me to witness the caresses which she bestowed upon our child? Nearly an hour passed. She was still there, sitting on the bench, not reading, from time to time glancing at her daughter, who was playing on the terrace. And I gave no thought to the passing of time, to poor Pettermann who was waiting for me; I could not turn my eyes away from that garden. Suddenly, as she ran toward her mother, Henriette made a false step and fell on her face. I uttered a cry simultaneously with Eugénie. She ran to the child, lifted her up and kissed her; the little one cried a little, but soon became calm and smiled, and I heard her say: “It isn’t anything, mamma.” Thereupon Eugénie looked about in every direction. Still holding her daughter in her arms, she walked to the edge of the terrace and looked out upon the road. I heard her say to her daughter: “It wasn’t you who cried when you fell, was it?” “No, mamma.” “Who was it then?” “I don’t know, mamma.” “Is your nurse in the garden?” “I don’t know.” “But no; it wasn’t the nurse who cried out in that way.” Her eyes were still searching; she looked in every direction, and I dared not stir; I was afraid to move a leaf; but in a moment she said: “Let us go in, Henriette.” “I’d rather stay in the garden.” “But if you should fall again----” “No, I won’t run any more; I will play quietly.” She walked away, and my daughter remained behind. I wondered if I might take advantage of that moment. But the wall was rather high; how could I get to her? Ah! by mounting my horse, I could do it perhaps. I climbed down from my tree, and ran back to Pettermann, who was still in the saddle; I mounted my horse and motioned to my companion to follow me. In a moment I was beside the garden wall again. I stood on my horse, reached the top of the wall, jumped, and in a moment was on the terrace, leaving Pettermann staring at me with amazement, but without uttering a word. I walked a few steps into the garden; I saw my daughter, I ran to her, took her in my arms and covered her with kisses before she had time to recognize me; at last she was able to look at me and she cried joyfully: “It is papa! my little papa! you have come back, haven’t you? I keep asking mamma every day if you are coming back.”