Madeleine was so impressed by the tone of Madame Dutertre, by her pallor that she had not observed before, and by the tears that she saw her shed, that she said to her: "My God! Sophie, what is the matter, pray? Why these painful words? Why these tears? Yesterday I left you calm and happy, except, as you told me, the concern occasioned by your husband's business. Is there anything new to-day?" "No, I--think--not," replied Sophie Dutertre, with hesitation. "But since yesterday--my husband's business concerns me less than--" "Go on." "No, no; I am foolish," replied Madame Dutertre, restraining herself, and seeming to hold back some words ready to escape; "but let us not talk of me, let us talk of Antonine; I am so touched by the despair of this poor child that one might say her suffering is mine." "Sophie, you are not telling me the truth." "I assure you." "I see you are pale and changed. Yes, since yesterday you have suffered, and suffered much, I am sure." "No," replied the young woman, putting her handkerchief to her eyes, "you are mistaken." "Sophie," said Madeleine, quickly taking her friend's hands in her own, "you do not know how much your lack of confidence distresses me; you will make me think you have some complaint against me." "What are you saying?" cried Sophie, pained by this suspicion, "you are and you will always be my best friend, and I am only afraid of fatiguing you with my grievances." "Ah, again?" replied the marquise, in a tone of affectionate reproach. "Forgive me, forgive me, Madeleine; but really, is it not enough to confide to your friends your real sorrows, without saddening them by the confession of vague apprehensions, which are, nevertheless, very distressing?" "My dear Sophie, tell me these apprehensions." "Since yesterday,--but, again, I say no, no, I shall appear too foolish to you." "You appear foolish to me, well, what of it? Speak, I beseech you." "Ah, well, it seems to me that since yesterday my husband is under the influence of some idea which completely absorbs him." "Business matters, perhaps?" "No, oh, no; it is something else, and that is what confounds and alarms me." "What have you observed?" "Yesterday, after your departure, it had been agreed that he would undertake two measures of great importance to us. Seeing the hour slip away I went into our chamber, where he had gone to dress himself. I found him with his working apparel on, seated before a table, his head leaning on his hand; he had not heard me enter. 'Charles,' said I to him, 'you forget the hour. You are to go out, you know.' 'Why am I to go out?' he asked. 'My God! why, on urgent business,' and I recalled to his mind the two matters requiring his immediate attention. 'You are right,' said he, 'I had not thought of them again.' 'But what are you thinking of, Charles,' I asked. He blushed, appeared embarrassed, and did not answer a word."