"I am very sorry, monsieur; but I shall not go to tell her that or anything else. I will do nothing to forward a passion which your worthy father does not approve; he has too much reason now to complain of my negligence. I love you dearly, and that is why I will not help you to continue a guilty connection which would lead to no good end. Monsieur your father knows very well what he is doing; it was high time that he should come, for we were all making fools of ourselves, I most of all. His presence restored our equilibrium. He snatched you away from temptation; that distresses you, and yet it was the best thing he could possibly do. _Qui bene amat, bene castigat; experto crede Roberto._" Frédéric went home, to think of Sister Anne, and to try to devise some means of seeing her. If he had known that she bore within her a pledge of his love, that she was about to become a mother, nothing could have kept him in Paris. He would have flown to her, defying his father's wrath. But he knew nothing of that circumstance, so he confined himself to saying every day: "I will go to her." The count sent to ask his son to come to him, and Frédéric obeyed, his brow still clouded with ennui. "You have ceased to appear in society," said the count; "have your travels made a misanthrope of you?" Frédéric said nothing,--always the best course to pursue when one has nothing to say. "I wish you to go with me this evening," continued the count, "to call on one of my old comrades in arms, Général de Valmont. After a long residence on his estates in the country, he has come to Paris to stay some little time. He desires to see you, and I desire to present you to him." Frédéric bowed, and prepared to accompany his father. He had heard him speak of this Monsieur de Valmont, with whom he had served in the army, and who was of about his age; so that there was nothing to cause surprise in his desire to present his son to his old friend. On their way to the general's house, Monsieur de Montreville was unusually amiable, and Frédéric strove to appear less melancholy than usual. When they reached their destination, they were announced in due course, and Monsieur de Valmont came forward to meet them. At first sight, his appearance was most prepossessing. His manners were frank and cordial, his features instinct with sincerity and good humor. He embraced his old friend, shook hands heartily with Frédéric, and seemed delighted to see him. After the exchange of greetings, the general invited his visitors to step into an adjoining room. "You have shown me your family," he said to the count; "now, I must show you mine. It surprises you, perhaps, that I, an old bachelor, have a family; it is not quite so near to me, to be sure, but it is none the less dear." As he spoke, they entered the room, where a young lady was seated at a piano. At sight of the strangers, she hastily rose.