_Pascaline._ Oh, father! father! advise me. I am puzzled, bewildered. Something tells me I am acting badly; but I don’t know what I ought to do. Oh, dear, I don’t know what I ought to do! _Forjot._ My little Girl, it all depends upon you whether I am to finish my life in misery, or in peace. You can give me happiness in the days I have still to live. But to do that, you must come back to us; and you must try to treat Hélène with the respect and gratitude you owe her. In her despair at not being able to win back your affection, she wants to leave us. She wishes to return once more to the lonely, uncertain life of a governess. She wants to plunge herself into this unknown, uncertain destiny. It is I who appeal to you to have mercy upon her, and upon me. _Pascaline._ Ah, if only I might love you without being false to Mama! _Gabrielle [emotionally]._ You can, you can, Pascaline! Yes, my daughter, I am not the mother that you believe in! Since I left you I have created for myself a new life, new habits, new affections; and then, Pascaline, I am going to marry again! Always, emotionally, Gabrielle tells how she once had two paths to choose, and that she chose the wrong one. But Pascaline interrupts her with a cry of: “What a calumny!” and vows that her mother has never done wrong. And that she knows for certain, _as Hélène herself has often told her so_. _Gabrielle._ Eh bien, va embrasser Hélène pour cela. Je te le demande. Je vous la confie, Hélène. And so, the end. Not heroic, in accordance with the English poetic sentiment, demanding that Gabrielle should pass out sorrowing and penitent; convicted in her child’s eyes, who flies for safety to the virtuous bosom of Hélène, but _à l’amiable_, in accordance with the French sentiment expressed by Forjot: “Mon enfant, si l’on n’avait pas d’indulgence les uns pour les autres, la vie des plus braves gens ne serait pas possible.” But what comes of it all? No argument for or against divorce; no attack upon, no justification of the French method of educating the _jeune fille_. But a picture of the feelings and emotions bound up with that method; and a picture also of the generous reasonableness, sense of justice, and human kindness that lie at the root of French character—and that may to some extent compensate for a lack of the absolutely sincere and unadulterated love of decency and respectability for their own sakes that are our own distinguishing characteristics. [3] _Briant_ père. Il suffit aujourd’hui—et je le constate sans en être le moins du monde troublé, croyez-le bien—il suffit qu’un enfant soit naturel pour se voir l’objet de la sympathie générale, comme il suffit qu’une femme ne soit pas légitime pour être immédiatement entourée du respect universel. Que les femmes et les enfants ne se le dissimulent pas, ils sont en train de passer un mauvais quart d’heure.