Chérubin had gone out early with Louise that morning; they had taken a basket containing bread and fruit, and looked forward to eating their luncheon in the woods; that frugal collation seemed most delicious to them. And, in sooth, what more could they desire? they were together, and they loved each other; that is the most enjoyable repast to which one brings a contented heart. The relations between Louise and Chérubin at this time were so pleasant, so pure, that they were happy to be together and aspired to no other happiness. It may be, however, that young Louise’s affection was more eager, more expansive, because there was already a tinge of sadness in it. She was afraid that Chérubin would decide to go to Paris; she was afraid that she was going to lose her friend; and that fear made her love him even more, for our affections are strengthened by the sorrows that they cause us. The two young people were greatly surprised when the professor and Jasmin suddenly appeared in the midst of their open-air repast. “We were looking for you, attractive youths,” said Monsieur Gérondif; “we were perturbed in spirit. The adventure of Pyramus and Thisbe has been running in my head; I have mistaken every dog I met for a lioness. I am well aware that my pupil has no inclination to fly, like the young Assyrian, with any Thisbe; but anyone may make a false step.” “Tell me, why did you come to look for us?” said Chérubin; “I have time enough to study, I should think. I know enough already. Is anyone sick? Has anything happened, that Jasmin comes with you?” Monsieur Gérondif seemed struck by a sudden thought; he glanced at Jasmin and said: “In truth, my noble pupil, there has been an accident--not at all serious, I trust. Your nurse’s oldest son has hurt himself; he is at Montfermeil--he has written; and Nicole would like to have Louise go to him at once; she will come too very soon.” “We’ll go with Louise,” said Chérubin. “No, we had better go back to poor Nicole, who is in grief--she doesn’t know where to go for a doctor. Louise can go to Montfermeil alone; you can see the first houses from here.” “Oh, yes! yes! I will be there in a few minutes,” said Louise; “but where is dear mother Nicole’s son?” “At Madame Patineau’s, on the main street. Here, here is her address, and a line for her.” Monsieur Gérondif scrawled a few words in pencil, wherein he requested the lady to whom he was sending the girl to keep her at her house, and not to let her go until she was sent for. The girl took the note, bade Chérubin adieu and ran off toward Montfermeil. The professor rubbed his hands and glanced at Jasmin, who said to himself: “I should never have thought of that.” They returned to Gagny; as they approached the square, they saw a carriage stop and a gentleman alight: it was Monsieur d’Hurbain, the notary. “Here’s a visitor for you,” said Jasmin to his master. “This gentleman is your notary, in whose care your venerable father placed his testament.”