"It shall be as you deign to permit, O venerable man, who read my heart so well.--Blanche! Blanche! that is your name, my darling, it is the name your grandfather gives you. Ah! how sweet it is to pronounce! How well it suits the purity of your soul!--Blanche! one would say that she understands me already, and that she thanks me for giving her that name!" Ambroisine rarely passed a day without going to see Bathilde, especially since her friend had become a mother. As soon as she reached the house, the young countess gave her the marquis's letter, saying: "Read this; it concerns you too." Ambroisine read the letter eagerly; her cheeks instantly flushed with joy and pleasure, and she threw her arms about her friend, crying: "I shall be her godmother! he permits me to be your daughter's godmother!--What a noble old man!--Ah, yes! he knew right well that he would make us both happy by suggesting that!--And he gives her the name of Blanche--Blanche!" Ambroisine stopped as if she had suddenly remembered something. "What is it?" said Bathilde; "one would say that that name recalled some memory." "No, no; I was reflecting." "About whom I shall accord the honor of taking Monsieur de Marvejols's place, eh?--Mon Dieu! I confess that that embarrasses me considerably; for I do not know any nobleman. Nobody comes here but you." "Oh! do not be embarrassed, do not think any more, for I have already thought of someone." "You have? Of whom, pray?" "Have you forgotten, dear Bathilde, that generous gentleman, who, when you were still at my father's house, authorized me to offer you his assistance, and promised to take care of your child--the Sire de Jarnonville?" "Ah, yes! you are right, Ambroisine; I ought not to have forgotten him; forgive me. But, you see, I think of nothing but my daughter now!--Do you see him sometimes?" "Yes, quite often, in fact; he comes to my father's, not to joke and talk nonsense with all those idle young noblemen who rendezvous there, but to ask me about you and your child. Ah! he was heartily glad of your good fortune." "And do you think that he will be willing to hold my child over the font, in monsieur le marquis's place?" "Oh! I am sure that he will accept the post with great pleasure--he is so fond of children! For he is a widower, and he once had a little girl whom he adored, and her name was Blanche, like your child's.--That was what came into my mind just now." "And what you dared not tell me, because he lost his daughter!--Oh! don't be alarmed, dear Ambroisine, I am very far from seeing in that an omen of disaster for my Blanche. No, heaven has sent her to us to allay all our suffering. She has given me so much happiness, that I am sure that she will soften the Sire de Jarnonville's regrets in some degree. He will transfer to her the love that he had for his own child."