"He hasn't changed a bit.... His complexion is as fresh as ever.... The eyes are a little tired, perhaps ... but he's looking very well...." "When you've finished picking me to pieces, between you!" said Philippe, laughing. "What an inspection! Why don't you give my wife a kiss? That's more to the point!" Marthe flung herself into Mme. Morestal's arms and into her father-in-law's and was examined from head to foot in her turn. "I say, I say, we're thinner in the face than we were!... We want picking up.... But, my poor children, you're soaked to the skin!" "We were out all through the storm," said Philippe. "And what do you think happened to me?" asked Marthe. "I got frightened!... Yes, frightened, like a little girl ... and I fainted.... And Philippe had to carry me ... for half an hour at least...." "What do you say to that?" said Morestal to his wife. "For half an hour! He's the same strong chap he was.... And why didn't you bring the boys? It's a pity. Two fine little fellows, I feel sure. And well brought up too: I know my Marthe!... How old are they now? Ten and nine, aren't they? By the way, mother got two rooms ready. Do you have separate rooms now?" "Oh, no," said Marthe, "only down here!... Philippe wants to get up before day-break and ramble about the roads ... whereas I need a little rest." "Capital! Capital! Show them to their rooms, mother ... and, when you're ready, children, come down to lunch. As soon as we've finished, I'll take the carriage and go and fetch your trunks at Saint-Elophe: the railway-omnibus will have brought them there by this time. And, if I meet my friend Jorance, I'll bring him back with me. I expect he's in the dumps. His daughter left for Luneville this morning. But she said she had written to you...." "Yes," said Marthe, "I had a letter from Suzanne the other day. She didn't seem to like the idea, either, of going away...." * * * Two hours later, Philippe and his wife settled themselves in two pretty, adjoining bedrooms on the second floor, looking out on the French side. Marthe threw herself on her bed and fell asleep almost immediately, while her husband, with his elbows on the window-sill, sat gazing at the peaceful valley where the happiest days of his boyhood had been spent.