Bathilde took the child on her knees; Blanche put her little arms about her mother's neck and returned her kisses, lisping: "The gentleman--he kiss Blanche again; he said--I am pretty!" "What does she say?" asked Bathilde, looking from Ambroisine to the nurse. "She says," replied Ambroisine,--"what she says is true; yesterday there was a fine gentleman on the square; he saw Blanche playing; he thought her so pretty that he kissed her, and then he asked Marie the dear child's name, and then her mother's; and when she told him, he kissed Blanche once more; and that same gentleman came to-day again and sat on the same bench; and I am perfectly sure that it was to see Blanche again!" "When mademoiselle saw him this morning," said the nurse, "she recognized him at once, and began to run toward him." "But this gentleman--who was he, pray?" asked Bathilde, in a trembling voice. "Do you not guess, Bathilde, do you not guess?" "O mon Dieu! tell me!" "He was the Comte de Marvejols--your husband." "He! Is it possible?" Bathilde turned pale; for a moment she was overcome; but joy rarely does any harm, and the young mother covered her daughter with kisses once more, crying: "He kissed you, little darling, he kissed you! Why, that gentleman was your father--your father for whom I have taught you to pray to God every night, to preserve his life and bring him back to us. Ah! God has heard your prayers.--Now, Marie, Ambroisine, tell me all that happened, all, both yesterday and to-day. Do not forget anything, do not omit the most trivial detail; I shall be so happy listening to you." The maid described minutely the meeting of the preceding day. "And you told me nothing of this yesterday, Marie!" "Bless me! I could not imagine that it would interest you so deeply! I was so far from suspecting that that handsome gentleman was monsieur le comte; and if I must mention everybody who admires mademoiselle when I take her out to walk, and everybody who exclaims at her beauty and caresses her, I should never stop!" "Well--and to-day, Marie!" The nurse told what had happened previous to the arrival of Ambroisine, who completed the story from that point. "And he went away like that--hurriedly?" said Bathilde. "Mon Dieu! yes; I am very sorry that I showed myself; but when I saw him holding his daughter in his arms, could I be expected to control my surprise?" "He held her in his arms?" "To be sure." "And he kissed her?" "Oh! several times." "And you are sure, Marie, that he knew that Blanche was the daughter of the Comtesse de Marvejols?" "Pardine! I told the gentleman so yesterday, madame; and it was he himself who asked me the question." "He knew that she was his daughter, Ambroisine, and he took her in his arms, and put his lips to her forehead! Oh! I cannot believe yet in such good fortune! Why, in that case, he must love darling Blanche!"