That same evening the Black Chevalier stopped in front of the barber's house, and, as always, looked through the window to see if Ambroisine was there. The girl's frank and sprightly conversation had insensibly lightened the Sire de Jarnonville's sombre humor; and often, without a previously formed intention, he walked in the direction of Rue Saint-Jacques, to obtain that distraction which became more necessary to him every day, and which he had begun to prefer to the debauches and combats that had formerly been an essential part of his life. That evening Ambroisine was on the watch for the chevalier; for she was eager to tell him what Bathilde expected from him. She very soon told him the tenor of the old marquis's response, and added, lowering her eyes, that she had made bold to say that the Sire de Jarnonville would consent to take his place and to represent him. "You were quite right to give that assurance," replied the chevalier, gently pressing Ambroisine's hand. "It will be an honor and a pleasure to me to act as godfather to the countess's child. Moreover, the Marquis de Marvejols is very old, and I am still young and strong. If the first godfather should die, it is only right that there should be one left to succeed him and to watch over the child, whose father seems determined to close his arms to her." "The old marquis wishes the little girl to be named Blanche," said Ambroisine, hesitatingly. "Blanche! Blanche!" murmured Jarnonville, letting his head droop on his breast. "Ah! that was the name of an angel!" "Well! this is another angel, as you will see. You will be her protector, her second father. The little darling--she will love you dearly. She will not cause you to forget the other, but she will ask you to give her a little of the affection which you feel for all children, in memory of the child you have lost." Jarnonville was too deeply moved to reply. He took leave of Ambroisine, saying: "To-morrow I will go to pay my respects to madame la comtesse, and to receive her orders for the ceremony." Two days after this conversation, the daughter of Léodgard and Bathilde was presented for baptism by the Sire de Jarnonville and Ambroisine. An old gentleman who was a friend of the chevalier, Master Hugonnet, and a few faithful old retainers of the marquis, were the only witnesses of the ceremony, which Bathilde was too weak to attend. When he carried little Blanche back to her mother and placed her in her arms, Jarnonville kissed the child's forehead. His emotion was most intense, for the little girl's features recalled the cherished darling whom he had lost. He could hardly articulate the words: "Will you allow me, madame, to come occasionally to present my respects to you and to embrace this child?" "Henceforth this house is open to you, seigneur," Bathilde replied. "You will honor me by coming here; you will make me happy by taking an interest in my daughter."