“Mademoiselle Dulaurens! You used to call me Alice!” “A long time ago,” said the old lady. “You were a little girl then.” “Am I not so now? At least, not very big,” Alice replied. Madame Dulaurens could ill support the failure of her schemes. She was thinking about the fame of her At Homes. With the help of this hero from Madagascar she would have been able to crush her rival, the Baroness de Vittoz, who had captured a gouty explorer engaged in a course of the waters at Aix. She had satisfied herself of the truth of Jean Berber’s words. Young Captain Guibert’s career, she found, had been most brilliant. His resolution and bravery were greatly responsible for the success of the expedition. Honorable mention for gallantry, the Legion of Honour, another stripe, all bore witness to his deserts. He was a lion to be proud of. And celebrity of this kind was more alluring to the militant Madame Dulaurens than that of literary men or scientists. Besides, was not a spur wanted to encourage the languid pretensions of the Count de Marthenay to Alice’s hand? “I cannot accept a refusal,” she said, as she gave the signal for departure. “We shall expect you at Aix on Sunday.” And then, returning mechanically to her opening remark to Madame Guibert, she said to her, in honeyed tones which were a very inapt expression of her soul, “Madame, every mother envies you your son.” Alice was particularly gracious to Paule as she said good-bye. But Paule did not unbend. When the carriage had driven away Marcel stood looking across the deserted courtyard. So lost in thought was he that he did not notice his sister gazing at him with an expression of mingled sadness and affection. “What are you thinking of?” she asked. He turned round and gave a rather melancholy smile, as though aware of his own weakness. “We must go and see them, mustn’t we?” he said. He was surprised at the effect of his question, for Paule’s face clouded and her eyes were veiled. “So you already find us insufficient for you?” she murmured. She mastered herself quickly and added determinedly. “I at least shall not go. I was not asked.” “Yes, you were,” said Marcel. “Yes, as an afterthought, and Madame Dulaurens made me feel that.” “My darling Paule, you know that I shall not go without you.” “Well, then, don’t let us go, will you? Let us stay here. Mother and I love you so much. We are so happy to have you with us and to look after you. Stay with us! The house has been silent as the grave so long, but you have brought the sunshine back to it.” Madame Guibert joined in, “Marcel, stay with us.”