"What would you advise me to do, George?" rejoined Monsieur de Moras. "I am ready to do whatever you say. "My dear friend," said Lucan, laying gently his hands upon Pierre's shoulders, "don't be offended, but life in common, under such conditions, becomes a very difficult matter. It is best not to wait until some irreparable scene. In Paris we will be able to see each other without difficulty. I advise you to take her away." "Suppose she is not willing." "I should speak firmly," said Lucan, looking him straight in the eyes; "I have some work to do this evening; it happens well and will give you a good opportunity. In the meantime, _au revoir_." Monsieur de Lucan locked himself up in his library. An hour later, Clotilde came to join him. He could see that she had wept a great deal; but she held out her forehead to him with her sweetest smile. While he was kissing her, she murmured simply and in a whisper: "Forgive her for my sake!" And the charming creature withdrew in haste to hide her emotions. The next morning, Monsieur de Lucan, who, as usual, had risen quite early, had been writing for some time near the library window, which opened at quite a moderate height on the garden. He was not a little surprised to see his step-daughter's face appear among the honeysuckle vines that crept over the iron trellis of the balcony: "Monsieur," she said in her most melodious tone, "are you very busy?" "Oh, not at all!" he replied, rising at the same time. "It's because, you see, the weather is perfectly delightful," she said. "Will you come and take a walk with me?" "Of course I will." "Well, come then. Good Heavens! how sweet this honeysuckle does smell!" And she snatched off a few flowers, which she threw to Lucan through the window, with a burst of laughter. He fastened them in his button-hole, making the gesture of a man who understands nothing of what is going on, but who has no reason to be angry. He found her in fresh morning costume, stamping upon the sand with her light and impatient foot. "Monsieur de Lucan," she cries, gayly, "my mother wishes me to be amiable with you, my husband wishes it, Heaven wills it, too, I suppose; that's why I am willing also, and I assure you that I can be very amiable when I try. You'll see!" "Is it possible?" said Lucan. "You'll see, sir!" she replied, dropping him with all possible grace, a regular stage curtsey. "And where are we going, pray, madam?" "Wherever you like--through the woods, at random, if you please."