"Ah, dear friends," said the young girl, "all my fear is that I will not be able to bear so much happiness! My uncle and the prince consent to all, and the prince,--oh, he was so kind, so fatherly to me, for he wanted me to take part in his conversation with my uncle, and he even asked my pardon for the grief he had caused me in opposing our marriage. 'My only excuse,' said he, with the greatest tenderness, 'is, Mlle. Antonine, that I did not know you. Madame Marquise de Miranda began my conversion, and you have finished it, and since she is here, you say, have the goodness to let her know that I would like to thank her before you for having put me in the way of repairing the wrong I have done you.' Were not those noble, touching words!" added the young girl. "Oh, come, Madeleine, come, my benefactress, my sister, my mother, you to whom Frantz and I will owe our happiness. And you come too, Sophie," added Antonine, taking Madame Dutertre by the hand, "are you not also a sharer in my happiness as you have been in my confidence and my despair?" "My dear child," said Madame Dutertre, trying to disguise her trouble, "I need not tell you that I share your joy; but the presence of the prince would embarrass me, and besides, as I was telling Madeleine just now, I must return home. I cannot leave my children alone too long. Come, embrace me, Antonine, your happiness is assured; that thought will be sweet to me, and if I have some sorrow, believe me, it will help me to bear it. Good-bye. If you have anything new to tell me, come to see me to-morrow morning." "Sophie," said the marquise, in a low but firm voice to her friend, "courage and hope! Do not let your husband go away; wait for me at your house to-morrow, all the morning." "What do you mean?" "I cannot explain more, only let Antonine's experience give you a little confidence. This morning she was in despair, now you see her radiant with happiness." "Yes, thanks to you." "Come, now, embrace me once more; courage and hope." Then, approaching Antonine, Madeleine said to her: "Now, my child, go back to the prince." The young girl and the marquise left Madame Dutertre, who, yielding in spite of herself to the conviction which seemed to ring from Madeleine's words, returned to her dwelling with a ray of hope. The prince waited for Madeleine in the parlour of President Hubert; he saluted her respectfully, and said to her, with that ceremonious formality which Antonine's presence imposed: