Genevieve became purple. It was the first time Maurice had expressed himself so frankly. When they left the table she led Esperance aside and kissed her until she almost stifled her. "Oh! how happy I am, and how I love him!" Maurice and Jean passed by talking so busily that they did not see the girls. "You are sure?" "Absolutely. Since I have been away for four whole days I am convinced more than ever that I adore that girl and shall not be happy without her." "You have written to your father?" "Not yet. I must first of all talk to Genevieve." "You are not afraid of what she will say? Of her answer?" Maurice smiled. "I want first to tell her of my future plans, and to have a confidential chat with her about everything." "You will be my best man, old fellow," he went on, clapping Jean on the shoulder. "You have chosen the role of actor, with the temperament of a spectator; strange lover!" "Like any other man I follow my Destiny. You were born for happiness, Maurice, one has only to look at you to be convinced of it. You breathe forth life, you love, you conquer. Youth radiates from you. I have asked myself a hundred times why I have chosen this career, and I am persuaded that I must live, if at all, the life of others." "Are you very upset--unhappy?" asked Maurice. "No, oh no; I don't suffer much, but of course I am a little disturbed. I am like a reflection. Esperance's happiness elates, her sorrow depresses me. I love her purely as an idealist. I would like Count Albert to look like the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche, and still keep the noble soul that we know he possesses. If your cousin should die, I truly believe that I would die. My life would be without aim, without soul; bereft of light, the reflection would vanish." They walked slowly down to the beach to join Albert and the girls. The night had broken soft and limpid, full of stars, full of dreams. They sat down on the sand, silently admiring the prospect. The waves broke regularly as if scanning the poem of silence. A fresh scent rose from the rocks which were clothed with sea moss. Far away a dog was barking. The young people were silent, united in a mood of wonder before the depths and lights of the night. PART IV. THE CHÂTEAU CHAPTER XXIII