But who would be there when Albert arrived with despair in his heart? Who would receive him, explain the illness to him, tell him about the last moments of the invalid, give him her last thoughts and that sort of consolation so essential to strong souls: that of exhausting all the details of sorrow? No, no, she had not yet finished her work. In the spirit, if not in actuality, she was Albert's wife. She would be there to palliate the first shock faithfully, to give to the son the substance of the words and injunctions which she had received from his mother. One might accuse her of lack of dignity: what matter? Mme. Derize would be pleased with her. She had calculated that he would arrive with the morning train at eight o'clock. Before eight she went to the Boulevard des Adieux. Her heart was beating, however, she trembled, she was afraid, but remained there. Philippe, who had gone to the station, came back with Albert, to whom he had broken the sad news. In the carriage along the road he alone had spoken. At the sound of the bell, Fanchette, dragging her feet, came to open the door. "My poor Fanchette," said Albert, as he embraced her. It was his first word of emotion. She dried her tears and showed him into the drawing-room. "Madame is there," she said. He thought she meant his mother and went in. He found himself face to face with Elizabeth, who was standing and walked to meet him; he made an involuntary movement of surprise, as if he did not recognize her. He no longer found the same Elizabeth, whom he had left eighteen months before, her beauty then somewhat heavy and sluggish, her face round and expressionless, but he now saw a new Elizabeth, thinner, more graceful, looking taller in her mourning gown, pale through lack of sleep, her eyes surrounded with dark circles, her features sunken--all denoting a life of suffering, which counteracted the disadvantages of sorrow. Philippe Lagier who followed him, had not anticipated that she would have the courage to be there. And with a greater freedom of observation, although equally sorrowful, he noticed that she was wearing a bodice which showed her figure to advantage. When the bell rang, she had trembled so that she had been obliged to lean against a table. Then everything seemed to simplify itself for her quickly. The obligation which was imposed upon her could not offend her dignity. She would fulfill it and would then return to the darkness. One imagines in advance difficulties which disappear of themselves. Seeing her husband under such circumstances, she realized a great inner peace, as soon as he came in. With a voice, which too, had changed and become lower, she said at once without speaking his name. "She was waiting for you. As I had the privilege of helping her in your place, I will tell you about her, of her last days, if you wish."