They left the Museum, animated by different feelings. The more that Maurice discovered his cousin's noble qualities, the delicacy of her feelings, the strength of her loyalty, the more he felt of protective affection for this child who was so pure, so free, and who had made her entry so bravely into the whirlpool where things are generally turbulent, and most brutal in the brutal side of Parisian life. The admiration of his twenty years, for Esperance's alluring beauty, was purified into a friendship which he felt growing deeper and stronger. As to Jean Perliez, he had become more and more resigned that his love should remain forever in the shade, unlimited devotion for all time, all his being offered in sacrifice to the frail idol, who went her way star-gazing, unsuspecting all the time that she was trampling upon hearts under her foot. CHAPTER XI M. and Madame Darbois had received the telegram announcing the return of their daughter, and were at the station to meet her. Esperance saw them and would have jumped out before the train had fully slopped. Maurice held her just in time. "No foolishness there, little cousin. Your bodyguards must return you intact to your family's four arms. One more moment of patience. What a hurry you are in to be rid of us." She held out her little hands to the two young men. "Oh, naughty Maurice! You know very well that I shall never forget these three days we have passed together, when you have been so good to me and taught me so very much." Maurice kissed her boldly; Jean put his lips very respectfully to the warm, soft little hand. The train stopped and the Darbois family were in an instant reunited. Mlle. Frahender declined escort to her convent. François Darbois installed her in a landau, and after he had thanked her heartily for her kindness to his daughter, gave the address to the coachman, who drove away with the old lady holding her inevitable little package on her lap, and steadying her old-fashioned little attaché case on the seat opposite. The Darbois family took their places in another carriage. Esperance must sit between her father and mother, leaning close to them, caressing them endlessly, and dropping her little blonde head on her mother's shoulder. "Oh! how long it seems since I have seen you," she kept repeating. She held her father's hand and pressed it against her heart. It seemed to her suddenly as if she had suffered from that absence of three days, and yet she could not specify at what moment she had wished herself back with them. She recounted all the little events that had taken place during the three eventful days. "You know," she explained to her father, "I am bringing you all the newspaper articles. Then I have the letter from the President of the Committee, and the beautiful presents from the King and Queen." The carriage stopped at the Boulevard Raspail. The _concierge_ came forward. "I am sure I hope that Mademoiselle has had a success."