And she could have shouted aloud in her joy. She had shaken off the old love, and she felt free from its degrading chains. Now she was safe. She could return to Paris serene and calm. What did it matter where she lived now? She was at peace with herself and all the world. She would at first see as little of Claude as possible, and never would have any more to do with him than was necessary for appearances. CHAPTER VIII. They started for Paris the next day, stopping at Dijon, to see Anna Laviguerie, a distant cousin, aged and poor, who would have died of starvation long ago if Odette had not sent her money from time to time. Thanks to her cousin, Mdlle. Anna was able to spend her days in complete mental and physical peace, which is really, if we did but know it, two-thirds of what we call happiness in this world. The old lady was so gratified and pleased at their visit that they were really touched; but they could not stop long; the next day they took the express for Paris. As they came north they found the weather very much colder, of course, and the country was covered with snow. When the train stopped in the Paris dépôt, the first person they saw was Grenoble waving his long arms in welcome, while Mme. Sirvin stood near him, beaming with joy. "Let me look at you, dear children," said Elaine, when they were seated in the carriage. "You have both grown handsome during your travels. Have they not, Grenoble? You must excuse your step-father's absence; he has been out of town a few days and will not return until to-morrow." Odette enquired for her father and sister. Elaine replied that she would meet them at the house. The conversation ran on, gay and lively. Paul pressed his mother's hand from time to time, as if he would say, "You are not mistaken. I am very, very happy." Grenoble seemed to think his suggestions for their trip had proved very successful, and said that Paris would seem dull and gloomy after the southern sunshine. They soon arrived at the house where Laviguerie and Germaine were awaiting them. Germaine looked pale, but smiling and lovely as usual. "Are you happy?" she found time to whisper to Odette. "Very happy. I love him, and he loves me." "May God watch over your happiness. And He will. Your husband will love you as long as he lives, and he is worthy of your utmost love." She did not even sigh at this happiness, built upon the ruins of hers. She seemed quietly happy all the evening, as usual. It would have needed a very close observer to have noticed the slight tremor when she happened to meet her brother-in-law's glance. The company broke up at eleven, as Odette was tired from her journey. Their rooms were ready on the second floor, as Mme. Sirvin had written. The sweet intimacy of their early married life had come to an end, as Paul and Odette, of course, now had their separate apartments.