Lauriane, moved to enthusiasm by the gallant conduct of the Rohans and La Forces at Montauban, urged her father to go, believing that his only thought was to uphold the honor of the cause, and that he, like herself, had naught in view but to preserve, at the price of fortune, of life, if need be, the dignity and liberty of conscience granted by Henri IV. She did not shed a tear as she gave him the last kiss; she followed him with her eyes along the road, as long as she could see him; and, when he was out of sight, she returned to her room and fell to sobbing. Mercedes, who was working in the closet, heard her and walked to the door, but dared not approach. She regretted that she did not know her language so that she could comfort her. The maternal instinct was so strong within her that she could not see a young heart suffer without suffering herself, and without a feeling that she must go to its aid. She thought of going in search of Mario; it seemed to her that no sorrow could hold out against the aspect and the caresses of her beloved child. Mario came softly in on tiptoe and stood close beside Lauriane without betraying his presence. Lauriane was already his darling sister. She was so kind to him, so playful, so anxious to amuse him when he passed the day with her! Seeing her weep, he was frightened; he believed, with everybody else, that Monsieur de Beuvre was absent for a few days only. He knelt on the edge of the cushion on which she had placed her feet, and gazed at her speechless. At last he ventured to take her hands. She started, looked up, and saw before her that angelic face, smiling at her through tear-bedewed eyes. Touched by the child's sensibility, she pressed him to her heart with the utmost warmth and kissed his lovely hair. "What is the matter, pray, my Lauriane?" he asked, emboldened by this outburst. "Why, my poor darling," she replied, "your Lauriane is grieved, as you would be if your dear father the marquis should go away." "But your papa will return soon; he told you so when he went." "Alas! my Mario, who can say that he will return at all? When one is travelling, you know----" "Has he gone very far away?" "No, but--Nay, nay, I will not make you unhappy. I must go out and take the air. Will you come with me and find your dear father?" "Yes," said Mario, "he is in the garden. Let us go. Would you like me to go and get my white goat to amuse you with her capers?" "We will go together to look for her; come!" She went out leaning on his arm, not like a lady leaning on the arm of a gallant, but like a mother, with her boy's arm passed through hers.