Dubourg appeared upon the scene, followed by Ménard; at sight of Frédéric, he divined all that had happened, and he instantly ran to the assistance of Sister Anne, crying: "Fainted again! an attack of madness, I'll wager! I told you before, this poor creature has times when she loses her reason." Constance made no reply; she left Sister Anne to the ministrations of Dubourg and Ménard, and returned to her husband, who still held the child in his arms. "He is lovely--is he not?" she asked, in a trembling voice, with her eyes still fastened on Frédéric. He did not speak, whereupon Constance roughly snatched the child from his arms; but soon, repenting of that impulsive movement, which she could not control, she covered the child with kisses, crying in a heart-broken tone: "Poor child! you are not guilty!" Dubourg and Ménard carried Sister Anne away to the pavilion, leaving Frédéric and Constance with the child. Frédéric's eyes were fixed on the floor, as if he were afraid to meet those of Constance, who had seated herself a few steps away and had taken little Frédéric on her knees. She tried to restrain her tears, but she had not the courage to speak. For some minutes neither of them broke the silence. At last, Frédéric raised his eyes and saw his wife caressing Sister Anne's son. At that sight he was on the point of throwing himself at her feet and confessing all, when Dubourg rushed into the room. "It's all right! I don't think it will amount to anything," he said, motioning to Frédéric not to betray himself. "That young woman is subject to attacks of insanity; then she thinks that she sees her lover everywhere. I have already advised madame more than once not to keep her in the house." "Really," faltered Frédéric, trying to recover his self-possession, "I am utterly unable to understand what has happened. I was so agitated by that poor creature's condition--that I didn't realize what I was doing." Constance said nothing; she simply looked from her husband to Dubourg. "I'll take her son to her," said the latter, walking toward Constance to take the child. "Let him stay," said Constance; "Frédéric will do that." Frédéric was thrown into confusion again; he could not support his wife's glance. In vain did Dubourg whisper: "Come, come, morbleu! have your wits about you. Remember that, for her own happiness, you must deceive her." At that moment Ménard appeared, in a comical state of dismay. "She has recovered her senses," he said to Dubourg, in an undertone; "but it's impossible to make her stay quietly in her room! She's a perfect devil! She insists on seeing him. She's running about the garden like a madwoman." "Why did you leave her?" And Dubourg hurried from the room. "What is the matter?" said Constance; "is she worse?" "No, madame," replied Ménard, who had no idea what he ought to say or do; "but, I'm afraid--her head--these women--love--_quid femina possit_."