“It will come to-morrow,” she thought, all a-quiver with hope. The postman became a person of importance in her eyes, a gentleman worth considering. She shot her prettiest smiles at him, as though she were trying to win his confidence and to persuade him that he must have a letter for her in his bag. Adèle was enraptured: “Oh, ma’am, you’re becoming as you used to be! And high time too! Yes, I was growing uneasy at seeing you always sad, taking no interest in things and looking so pale. But, there, you’re right: there’s as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it!” Released from her silence, Adèle was at last able to repeat all that Domfront had said about the breach and all that was happening now. And Gilberte learnt that Mme. de la Vaudraye’s _salon_, after closing for three weeks, had reopened. M. Beaufrelant and M. le Hourteulx had been invited. Mme. Duval even predicted an approaching reconciliation with the younger Simare, whose father had never ceased pleading in his favour. At the last reception, the duet from _Mireille_, as sung by M. Lartiste the elder and Mle. du Bocage, both of whom were making great progress, had been vigorously applauded. But the chief thing was the transformation undergone by Guillaume, whom everybody considered changed for the better. “They can’t get over it,” said Adèle. “I hear that he is the life and soul of the party and so amiable and so polite: just like a proper young man. He seems on the best of terms with his mother. The young ladies are all gone on him. Bless my soul, he’s a good-looking lad ... and it won’t take long before he’s turned all their heads....” Gilberte reflected: “He’s quite right to make himself amiable. It’s the only way to get round his mother.” Nevertheless, she had to make a certain effort to look upon this as the only explanation of Guillaume’s conduct. Two more days followed without a letter. Then, one morning, Adèle came back from her shopping: “Here’s a bit of news!” she said. “There’s no harm in telling you, now that you’ve got over things. M. Guillaume is engaged to the eldest Charmeron girl.” Gilberte burst out laughing: “It’s one of Mme. Duval’s matches!” “No, no, I hear it from others as well: the Bottentuits’ servant told me; so did M. Beaufrelant’s gardener. Mme. de la Vaudraye announced it last night when every one was there.” Not for a moment did Gilberte admit the possibility of so great a perfidy. Nothing evil could ever come from within her: no suspicions, no doubts, no base thoughts; and whatever came from without broke against her love like impotent waves. How could she have pictured treachery, who did not know that treachery existed? She was therefore very cheerful all day long. Nevertheless, at sunset, an irresistible force drew her to the ruined summer-house. Guillaume was not among the rocks in the valley.