I did not recognize that animated and playful countenance which attached so many people to her chariot at Mont-d’Or; she had assumed a much more serious expression. Her glance was almost melancholy; but how well that new manner became her! How great a charm that change gave her in my eyes! “My niece said a long way off: ‘There is Monsieur Dalbreuse;’ but I admit that I didn’t recognize you; and yet my sight is very good, I have never used spectacles. But who are these lovely children?” “They are mine.” “Yours? Oh yes! I remember now--my niece told me that you were married. They are charming; the little girl has magnificent eyes, and quite a little manner of her own. We shall make many conquests with those eyes.--And you, my fine fellow. Oh! you will play the handsome Leander with great success some day; you would be amazing with a club-wig.” While Monsieur Roquencourt was looking at my children, his niece drew near to me and said in an undertone: “So you have your children with you now?” “Yes, mademoiselle.” Then she stooped over Henriette and said: “Will you give me a kiss, my dear love?” My daughter made a dignified curtsy, then allowed herself to be embraced. Mademoiselle next took Eugène in her arms and kissed him. I do not know why I took pleasure in watching her do it. “So you live at Saint-Mandé? We learned that from your servant, whom we happened to meet.” “Yes, monsieur, I am passing the summer here; I am staying with a friend who was kind enough, with his wife, to take charge of my children while I was travelling.” “There is one thing that you don’t know, and that is that we have been neighbors of yours since yesterday.” “What?” “Yes, I mean it. We have hired a little house, all furnished, at Saint-Mandé and we have installed ourselves there for the rest of the summer. It was an idea that came into my niece’s head. After we met your servant, she said to me: ‘I am not feeling very well, uncle.’--It is true that she has been out of sorts ever since we returned from Mont-d’Or.” “Dear me, uncle! all this has very little interest for monsieur. What is the use of giving him all these details?” “Anything that concerns you, mademoiselle, cannot fail to interest me.” Caroline turned her face away. Her uncle continued: “Yes, my dear girl, you are not well; it is of no use for you to try to conceal it, for anybody can see it; and this solemn, melancholy expression which has taken the place of your former gayety--for you have lost all your gayety and----” “Why, you are mistaken, uncle; I am just the same as always.” “Well, you insisted on coming here for your health--at all events you told me so; and when you insist upon a thing--you know, my dear Dalbreuse, it’s just as it was when she made us go to drive at Mont-d’Or--it has to be done on the instant. And so, inside of twenty-four hours, we came, we saw, and we hired a house! And we must needs take possession of it at once.”