“Oh! oh! He fears me more than he loves me. Observe him carefully to-day when I tell him that I shall let you go to Paris without me, and you will see on his face, no matter what pains he takes to conceal it, his inward joy.” “Why should he feel so?” “Why? Dear child! I am like Saint-Jean Bouche-d’Or. I will tell that to himself, and before you.” “But suppose I marry on condition that you do not leave me?” urged Natalie. “Our separation is necessary,” replied her mother. “Several considerations have greatly changed my future. I am now poor. You will lead a brilliant life in Paris, and I could not live with you suitably without spending the little that remains to me. Whereas, if I go to Lanstrac, I can take care of your property there and restore my fortune by economy.” “You, mamma! _You_ practise economy!” cried Natalie, laughing. “Don’t begin to be a grandmother yet. What! do you mean to leave me for such reasons as those? Dear mother, Paul may seem to you a trifle stupid, but he is not one atom selfish or grasping.” “Ah!” replied Madame Evangelista, in a tone of voice big with suggestions which made the girl’s heart throb, “those discussions about the contract have made me distrustful. I have my doubts about him--But don’t be troubled, dear child,” she added, taking her daughter by the neck and kissing her. “I will not leave you long alone. Whenever my return can take place without making difficulty between you, whenever Paul can rightly judge me, we will begin once more our happy little life, our evening confidences--” “Oh! mother, how can you think of living without your Natalie?” “Because, dear angel, I shall live for her. My mother’s heart will be satisfied in the thought that I contribute, as I ought, to your future happiness.” “But, my dear, adorable mother, must I be alone with Paul, here, now, all at once? What will become of me? what will happen? what must I do? what must I not do?” “Poor child! do you think that I would utterly abandon you to your first battle? We will write to each other three times a week like lovers. We shall thus be close to each other’s hearts incessantly. Nothing can happen to you that I shall not know, and I can save you from all misfortune. Besides, it would be too ridiculous if I never went to see you; it would seem to show dislike or disrespect to your husband; I will always spend a month or two every year with you in Paris.” “Alone, already alone, and with him!” cried Natalie in terror, interrupting her mother. “But you wish to be his wife?” “Yes, I wish it. But tell me how I should behave,--you, who did what you pleased with my father. You know the way; I’ll obey you blindly.” Madame Evangelista kissed her daughter’s forehead. She had willed and awaited this request.